This has been a cool summer, though normally August for us is filled with spa-like nights and cicada night-music.
I recall a different sort of August, in 1993, in our first summer here in the valley, a place of tall trees and creeks that flow through.
August that year was a wonderful string of simmering nights, and I often sat outside on the decks after dark, enjoying the heat and the late-summer sounds of the night.
One night I came in and scribbled the following into my journal
"Under stars that punch bright holes
in the pierced tin dome of my universe,
I soak in the song of cicada,
sink deep in the mist that is born in creek waters,
and bathe in the moonlight that
sifts through the trees
like confectioners' sugar,
making a pastry of me."
In this 2009, my August nights have so far been cool, but tonight promises simmering low temperatures in the 80s.
Rain is possible, but rain or not, I'll spend some time on my deck in the darkness, hoping for heat and cicada.
Rose About Town wishes you a good night.