September 9th, 2010



There are fewer cicadas now, and their sound is less shrill than it was on the hot nights of August. It's only a few weeks until I'll begin finding the last of them wriggling in the sink on the back porch. Then the nights will fall silent, except when autumn breezes stir the leaves, or when acorns drop and clatter down the roofs. For now, the cicadas' buzzing has ceased to be an annoyance and has settled into the background, where it is easily ignored.

Portia appears to have been energized by the cooler nights. She now runs through the house each evening, leaping on and off the furniture and the windowsills until I let her outside, where she remains for hours. I have no idea where she goes or what she does, but eventually she turns up in the garage late each night, ready to come in and go to sleep— following a bit of lap time, of course. So far she hasn't brought anything living or dead with her, but I expect she will sooner or later. Most kitties eventually do. I'll consider myself fortunate if, like Sunni, she brings only acorns.