Try singing it. We are about half way through the Dog Days, as the ancient Romans called the time between 3 July and 11 (or 15) August. In central Italia, but still to come in this part of the world this year, they were the hottest days of the summer.

One suspects that, just as the Canary Islands, the volcanic West African Atlantic archipelago, were not named for yellow birds but for their wild dogs (Latin 'canes') these might also be called the Canary Days. But not so.

They were named as the days preceding and following the rising of the star Sirius in the Northern Hemisphere

Sirius, somewhat larger than and 20 times more luminous than our sun, is 8.6 light years away from Earth. Venus may appear brighter because it is much closer but Sirius satellite radio recently took the name to itself Its canine logo is self-explanatory. With another star, the orbit of which is somewhat irregular, as its travelling companion, Sirius (the star) completes its distant orbit around Earth every 49.9 years.

The ancient Egyptians called it 'Sothis', portraying it as a man with a dog's head and crediting it with the annual flooding of the Nile upon which their agriculture depended.

The Greeks and the Romans accused the extra heat that Sirius added to that of the sun of drying and burning their summer grass and grazing areas. The star's Latin name means 'searing' or 'scorching'.

The constellations have drifted since ancient times but, despite the size and brilliance of Sirius, we know now that the extra heat of summer is due to Earth's tilt. A friend who keeps closer tabs on these things than I do tells me that the Dog Star does not appear in the Southern Hemisphere. I must check that out sometime with friends 'Down Under' where they are, nevertheless, suffering 'serius' annual drought and forest fires.

We also know that the heat we get from the sun is cooling down. No star, Old Sol included, retains its luminosity undiminished. As it declines the quality of its light changes.

At its hottest and most brilliant it gives out a white light, as is the case with Sirius which is currently the brightest star.

As a white-hot star cools, it becomes yellow-hot. That is the case with our now middle aged sun. We can predict its future from other stars that are now only red-hot and from the dark ones that we no longer see because they have cooled as Earth once did.

Our planet's wonderful luminosity, as seen from space, appears as a bright jewel hanging in surrounding darkness. It shines with reflected light.

The human race may, with its greed and garbage, eventually make Earth uninhabitable.

Alternately, as expected by apocalyptic visionaries who ransack some ancient books for prophecies of things to come, a new heaven and new earth could be in place as early as 2017. But don't avoid long-term contracts. Others tell us that the sun is good for another 5,000 million years, admittedly with weakening lifegiving power. Even the non-elect may survive.

Meanwhile, as the Dog Days progress, Europeans are packing for their favoured August vacation month. Anyone who has lived in London, Paris or Rome during the summer knows how difficult it is to plan a good intown dinner party for the next few weeks.

Almost anybody one might wish to invite is somewhere else, out of town, up in Scotland, on a cruise or sunning themselves on the Costa del Sol.

Those who eschew crowded airports, tunnels and train stations drive to the seaside.

The result is that although Europe is my favourite out-of- Canada holiday venue, July (excessively touristy everywhere) and August (especially so in the E.U.) are the times I stay at home.

By doing so, I miss a lot that goes on over the sea, especially in this 2009 Year of Homecoming in Scotland.

There are those August events of the Edinburgh Festival, particularly the great military tattoo against the backdrop of Castle Rock. There is, in addition, an explosion of Scottish culture in literary and artistic offerings. And there are the imported jazz and blues events that satisfy those poor souls who cannot abide the pipes. And don't forget the theatre at Pitlochry (Perthshire), a Fergus ON look-alike town that also stages an October Autumn Festival.

There is also the annual Welsh National Eisteddfod (meaning 'session' or 'assembly') from 1 to 8 August this year. It should be at least a once in a lifetime pilgrimage, look you, for anyone who has a drop of Welsh blood. The events include song and poetry in the Welsh language. Those who have always wanted to meet a Druid will find their modern counterparts at the Eisteddfod. It moves to different places each year. In 2009 it is at Bala, North Wales, not Muskoka.

There are comparable August event on the Continent. The gardens at Versailles are at their peak at this time of year although autumn seems better suited to the mood of a place the grandeur which is of another time. Thus far neither Vienna nor Salzburg have been on my travel schedule. It is a continuing disappointment. The former, with its palaces, cakes and ale and the latter with its August-long festival of music and opera, including children's opera films at the university and the daily free JumboTron offerings in the Kapitelplatz. Ah, Europa, our ancestral home or native lands! For, still, a majority, anyway.

All of the above seems to me to outclass the Calgary Stampede, the C.N.E. and (if you have a passport) August's National Goat Cheese Month in the U.S.A. As the years mount up one has fewer contemporaries with places from which to issue weekend invitations from cottage country as far away as Métis and the Near North. Their children have divided up and taken over those amenities.

Oh well, Dufferinshire is at its best in high summer.

Come to think of it, in a recession year and considering the cost and the hassle of August travel, is there any place you'd rather be than highest Ontari-ari-o?