August is the time most defined by the sound of the crickets, and the few out-of-turn cicadas that we get each year. Last Friday, on our walk, Dee and I found a dead, flat cicada, which I actually took a picture of.
I find the sound soothing, but on a higher level, it’s urgent. The summer is ending, and we have to hurry now to get all the last bits of our summer done.
But what are these mysterious things, after all? I remember having hopes and plans, but they slip my mind now, and I hope that I did get around to doing some of them. I think that they must have been pretty much fulfilled, since I know I have loved this summer. What more can you want from plans, anyway?
One more thing left that I know that I want to do is visit Boulder. This will be the first time that I’ve been there since my operation. I so much want to get there and have everything be just as we had left it in February.
white pebble 