The grasshoppers are fat - the Swiss cheese looking leaves testament to their voracious appetites. Frogs and crickets start their nightly chorus at dusk, always heard but rarely seen. They are rivaled only by the cicadas. With years of interment and obscurity behind them they spend their brief time above ground calling for love with a deafening presence. The birds are thick now that spring babies have reached full size. Hummingbirds hum, bees buzz, cicadas drone, birds sing, frogs croak, leaves rustle, grass swishes, and the breeze whispers.
The verdant jungle of tomato plants magically turn green orbs to red overnight, offering up sweet fruit readily. The pear and apple trees are laden but still call for patience. Fields of corn stand proud. Of unique sounds, the wind through corn is magnificent. The sun burns, thunder rumbles, rain patters, silent growth abounds, and life erupts.
Spring is new life, but summer is the fulfillment of it. It is by far my most favorite time of year and what I yearn for in January. As all good things right now I am clinging to it and dread it’s end. In my mind I can see the long shadows of August afternoons and hear the slow die of the “weeeeeee-oooo-weeeeeee” cicada song. I suppose I would keep it summer forever if I had the chance. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen; fireworks and watermelon; and the feeling of being free of things.
While this summer has not been the exact respite I thought it would be, it has been other things I needed. As I write this, a storm is slowly rambling through, and the thunder and rain are gentle. Hummingbirds are defending territory mere inches from my head, and the frogs, cicadas, and crickets have deemed it safe to announce their presence. The air is fresh, the heat is gone, and the breeze is tender. My belly is full of tomatoes that came off the plant only this morning. My stout little grasshopper friend to my left will live to chew some scalloped edges in the leaves tonight. My feet are up. I’ve got my offspring in the house and out of my hair. This is retreat, and a darn good one too.
Peace does not mean quiet. Loud can be calm. You do not have to see what you hear to know it. Unplanned can become necessary. Unknown can become essential. Anticipated can evolve into disappointing.
To be honest I have felt a bit overextended and under appreciated lately. This is partly product of circumstances and a lot of being selfish. But I grin now as my boys can’t seem to stand that I am out here alone and feel the need to come invade my space.
“What are you doing mom? Mom? What are you doing? Can I come out there?????”
My niece is calling for me to come back in.
“Hiiiiii Aunt Chair-ty!! I see you! Are you coming back in Aunt Chair-ty? Aunt Chair-ty!! Come back in!!!!!!!”
My baby girl is not too happy with her daddy and needs her mama. I guess my solitude is up for today. But I think sometimes you need to let your battery drain totally dry in order to get the best charge.
