rejectomorph | Crickets are Saying Come Out

I've been developing odd aches in various places, and I suspect that they are the result of sitting in the draft of the window fans for several hours each night. My neck in particular is becoming stiff. I suppose I'll have to spend more time in the other part of the house. I certainly can't turn the fans off, as the room would never cool down.

It was just after I opened the windows to the cooling evening air that the neighbors decided to begin using their power mower, and then the leaf blower. The fumes filled the house, and the racket was deafening. It made me glad once again that I was born long enough ago to have enjoyed the sound of push mowers softly chattering on balmy evenings, and enjoy the scent of freshly cut grass unsullied by gasoline fumes. I've long believed that the flavor of cold beverages is enhanced by the fragrance of new-mown lawn. It is an experience that grows ever more rare.

The heat what somewhat less brutal today, and will be even less so tomorrow. I am looking forward to the breezes which usually follow a period of hot weather here. Even now, a slow current of cool air is flowing down the ridge. It is not yet strong enough to make the pines hum, but their song may well begin before the night passes. The disadvantage of these windy times is, of course, that should wildfires get started, they can spread more rapidly than in still air. This time of year even pleasures are fraught with dangers. But then, maybe they always are -- just not so obviously.