The air of the evening is like a hot, wet, blanket draped over my entire body.
It’s an odd sensation so late in the summer.
Usually at this time of the year the nights are getting crisp. Windows are closed and you can feel the faint touch of autumn. Like it’s peeking around the corner.
Not tonight.
Everything feels damp. I can’t get dry.
Even the cicadas are still going strong with their song of summer nights.
It’s hot enough that you will still sweat in a cold shower. Relief is but a fleeting moment.
Sleep will not happen until the wee hours of the morning, when it has finally cooled down enough to allow me to stop fidgeting around to find a cool spot in my sheets.
I look over to the patch of wild ferns gently moving in the light breeze. The fireflies that usually float above them are already gone for the season.
I see the faint lights of neighbor homes leaking through the gaps in my fence. They share a gentle glow in the darkness.
Soon the cicadas will slowly quiet. Every night will be a smaller choir. One by one until there are none left to sing. It will be then when I notice the quiet. Right now it sounds like wild country safari in the dark corners of my yard.
I am ready for autumn, but will miss these summer nights sitting in the dark, appreciating nature, absorbing peace, and just being still.
Ps Blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind
