When I'm woken up by the noise of a tractor cutting the weeds alongside the road up to Gamone, I know that summer has well and truly reached my home place. And that the Tour de France and Bastille Day are just down the track.
There's a corollary that has never ceased to amaze me. In the heat of summer, with the buzzing of cicadas filling the air at Gamone, it's hard to believe—and "unfair" in a way, to talk stupidly—that the days are already getting shorter!
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