Another dark morning here in Malibu. Not fog, which sweeps off the sea in thick, misty coils, rolls in and unfolds like it's alive, but clouds. Flat and heavy, they drop flat and heavy light that presses down, an almost physical weight.

So here's an antidote, a monarch on the sunflowers in a garden near the barn. It was warm that day, on its way to hot, so many drowsy bees the air was humming. And this butterfly, drifting, alighting, then drifting again, like summer could last forever.