The evening sky was aflame with the promise of another stinker.
Word spread quickly: “Stinker, stinker, stinker,” was the call and worried looks were exchanged, coping plans were discussed and all round there was the feeling of dread at yet another hot, stifling day.
Even in the fading light, the temperature had not dropped, and the humidity was high.
Uncomfortable was a default position for every creature.
“Stay out of the heat,” they urged each other, “find shelter and stay there, keep fluids close by, don’t under any circumstances go out in the midday heat.”
The creatures who inhabited the baobab trees knew they were relatively safe, for the bulbous trunk of the tree harboured a supply of fluid they could tap into, and so they were safe.
The ground creatures buried themselves down deeper to escape the surface heat, the birds moved to the dense vegetation it was a matter of waiting it out.
They knew it wouldn’t last forever, they sensed a change in the weather, but the change was a day or two off, and they had to survive the current situation.
Overnight they prepared for the day ahead, and as the sun rose spreading its unrelenting heat over them they bunkered down, content to wait it out.