Waiting longer for nightfall now, and for the air to cool, that I might open the windows and listen to the frogs. Afternoon is all buzzing bees and the clatter of woodpeckers, and the sight of tiny insects catching the sunlight with iridescent wings. Once the bright world vanishes, I can fully wake. Spring days are too like dreams, each moment quickly dissolving into another scene, all together creating an endless series of distractions. I cannot concentrate in the midst of such effusiveness as these days display. The nights are calm and undemanding, with the landscape reduced to shapes and shadows, and the heat diminished. The frogs agree, I'd say.