Wednesday, August 26, 2015

A Night Walk in Virginia

The cicadas' song in the heat of the day is slowly fading into the nighttime crickets' melody. Somewhere the fireflies are putting on a show, though they aren't performing near me lately. The magnolia tree has put out two or three sad flowers that seem to have no aroma. Although I find the aroma of magnolias overwhelming, it wounds me to smell nothing, to see that magnolia and recognize a brokenness there.

Why is the magnolia lacking in fragrance? This niggles at me, but then I am quickly attentive to other things because the dog is moving on, sniffing trails I can't smell, doing her little SniffBook social media thing, learning, I assume, who's been by, who's pregnant, and what other critters have been traveling through.

The dark of night is slowly settling in, wrapping around us in a warm embrace. Something flies by me, disliking my proximity. A cicada, I assume. This year's batch seems more skittish. I stare at the sky, wishing I lived somewhere where I could get away from city lights and see the stars. How I long for a clear starry night. I know they're out there, and my memory fills in the gaps of a celestial light show, before the dog and I go inside for the night.

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