just now making it to my eyes. and the crickets chirping in the grass. the immense and distant, and the tiny and near, in the same breath. their reality.
the hotter the night, the faster the crickets chirp. as the weather cools, their chirping gets slower and slower. and finally, it stops, and they are gone. they say you can figure out the temperature by counting the number of a crickets chirps per minute. my brother, with his near-perfect pitch, can tell you, "that one is chirping in a-flat, and that one in c-sharp!"
last night in bed i noticed that i was reading about a woman who was noticing: "finally, and 