The cricket I hear in my back yard tonight must be enormous. It has the deepest chirp I've ever heard from a cricket. When I first heard it I thought it must be a frog, but frogs just aren't that rhythmic in their calls. After the skunks left I sat on the porch for a while just listening to the Barry White of crickets. It would be rather enjoyable to sit out there despite the sultriness of the evening if not for two things— the fact that as soon as I go back into the house I start sweating, and the forecast saying that our low tonight will be 79 degrees. Where the hell are we, freaking Alabama? The average low here for July 24 is 62. 62!
The local weather has gone as crazy as the local population.