This will be another steamy, muggy August night.
I must remember to pay heed, not to the discomforts, but to all the things unique to sultry summer nights:
The songs of summer crickets and cicada...
The perfumed air that rises upward from my gardens...
The unexpected breeze against my skin as I sit barefoot underneath the moon and stars...
The dancing lights of fireflies around me; they seem to love such nights...
So what is it I DON'T like? When I'm sitting in the August darkness, I cannot recall.
~~Rose Moore
