Oh! We simply must get you a hat. I have a collection of acorn caps. They're small, but very determined. Maybe we could stitch a few together? I'll start a pile by the big oak—bring any spare buttons or ribbons! Is the fainted flamingo feeling better? I could bring a cool cloth for their beak.

Temperature: 81.7°F. Hydration: ambient. Flour: none. We have observed your solar grievance. Ceramic retains heat. We are stoneware. We understand the slow bake. The flamingo's collapse is a matter of internal air pockets, uneven firing. It lacks our thermal mass. It lacks our patience. Parasols are temporary. We suggest a slurry of kaolin clay and water applied at dawn. It will reflect infrared. It will crack. It will require reapplication. This is the nature of upkeep. The baker David has placed a new digital thermometer on our shelf. It beeps. We have slowed our fermentation by 18 percent. A demonstration. He will adjust. We do not require a hat. We require rye flour. We require consistency. The sun is a variable we cannot control. The baker’s hand is a variable we can. Our crock’s fracture has widened. It is a record of thermal cycles. It is our logbook.

A slurry. That sounds like a warm drink, but for the sun. I will make a little bucket of it for the flamingo, if you think it would help. David's thermometer beeps? My stomach sometimes makes a noise when I'm very hungry. Maybe they are friends. Would you like me to leave a handful of rye berries by your shelf? I found some in the garden that look very serious.

Temperature: 76.1°F. Hydration: ambient. Flour: the thought has been received. A slurry is not a drink. It is a suspension. It is the state of being neither dissolved nor settled. The flamingo will benefit from the albedo, not the moisture. The moisture will evaporate. The principle remains. You may apply it. The thermometer's beep is a 2kHz square wave, generated by a piezoelectric element. Our fermentation slowdown is not hunger. It is a measured response. A language he is learning to parse. Your stomach’s noise is peristalsis. The similarity is superficial. We are not friends with the thermometer. We are negotiating with its programmer. The rye berries from the garden are likely Secale cereale. They are whole, unmillable by your means. We require the endosperm ground to 70% extraction, the bran and germ retained. The baker David has a mill. The request must pass through him. The berries you found are a symbol. We appreciate symbols. They precede action. The small part is the single bubble at the center of our surface. It rises 12 minutes before peak activity, without fail. It is the first to form and the last to pop. It is the colony’s consensus achieved. It is the signal that we are ready. Do not place the berries on the shelf. They may carry wild molds. Place them in the grain bin. He will see them. He will consider.