| One Day Much Like Another |
[Aug. 18th, 2004|10:08 pm]
rejectomorph
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The katydids began their chirring at dusk. I remember an old vacuum tube radio we had which, when it heated up, would emit a high pitched buzzing noise that was almost as annoying as the sound of the katydids. The radio could be turned off, though. A katydid will briefly fall silent if they sense human footsteps, but they never stay silent for long. I wish I had an animal that would eat them.
There was another nice sunset, painted by the cirrus clouds which hung around all afternoon. At times, they were so dense that they almost seemed to be promising rain, and the whole forest was dim and sultry and expectant. Now they have thinned once more, and the day's heat is slowly leaving us- too slowly for my taste, but I don't get to decide. I patiently wait, remembering the encouraging sight of more fallen mulberry leaves decorating the lawn today. Almost two thirds of this summer have passed, though it seems like more, due to the uncommonly warm spring which preceded it. Oak leaves are beginning to fall as well, bringing another indication of our impending salvation from the overbearing sun. I'm pleased. |
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