Yesterday I knew summer was here.
How did I know it? No, not because the temperature was – again! – over 90 (over 32 C) in the shade; 116 (47 C!!!) in the sun insisted the thermometer (wish I misread that). Not because the creek is drying up – although it is and we need rain badly. Not because it’s muggy, because it surely is and it has been feeling like August for too many days (somebody actually installed a small fan in the new chicklets’ pen – that’s how hot and stifling it is).
No, it’s because the day before yesterday the first empty cicada shell was spotted, still hanging onto the smoke tree trunk, split open in the back - the cicada who lived in it for many years under the earth now gone to live in the sun for a few months, singing. Yesterday I heard the first cicada sing. The sure sign of summer. Cicadas do not make mistakes.
Yesterday morning I also picked blueberries at a small pick-your-own bramble farm, a few miles from me. I suppose that’s another sign of summer Read more






