The sun beats hot on the lava rocks. Clouds float like cotton thinly scattered in the sky. The tradewinds playfully pass through.
Our lemon tree is heavily laden with fruit. Some almost touch the grass. The shiny lemon skins turn white under the sun.
I think about the amount of lemon juice we could get, then immediately wondered how long it would take to pick and squeeze them. It's a tropically hot and lazy day. Lemonade sounds good, but I'm too hot to to pick lemons and too lazy to squeeze a hundred of them. So, I sit back and admire them from my comfortable papasan on our downstairs lanai and sip water instead, book in hand.
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