Sultry Night

[rejectomorph]

Shadowed from the waxing moon's light, the space under the mulberry tree is dark and sultry. I lurk there, watching the pale street and inhaling the dank odor emitted by the overheated soil and last autumn's leaves moldering under the wild plum bushes. The night is quiet. Very few crickets are chirping, and those all distant. It has been a hard season for them, I suppose. I picture their dessicated husks moldering among the leaves. The loudest sound is the tricking of water from the garden hose and the high-pitched hum of the pipes. I have at last remembered to irrigate the sourgrass. The lawn will have its turn later.

Occasionally, when she turns her glance on me, I see from the porch the glow of my cat's eyes reflecting a shaft of moonlight which falls there. I wonder what other creatures might be watching me from the darkness? Now and then, I hear a moth hit the window screen, and there is sometimes a soft rustle among the fallen leaves. A rodent, perhaps, or a large insect? I have no idea. All I see are faint hints of houses, the silhouettes of trees, the gray pavement, and the cat eye's shining from the patch of moonlit porch. I imagine the pines filled with staring owls. The thought pleases me.

Comments

[static-eddie.livejournal.com]

Your reality pings are the best.

[rejectomorph]

Thanks. :-)