The Rural Life – Editorial – Summer’s Night – Editorial – NYTimes.com
The last couple of nights I’ve stood at the edge of the pasture watching the fireflies. They rise from the grass, flickering higher and higher until one of them turns into the blinking lights of a jet flying eastward far above the horizon. I can feel, rather than see, the bats working around the house and in the coves between the trees, feeding on insects that are invisible but fully audible to them.

I have the same type of evenings, the same kind of musings…Why can’t I say it quite that well?

Since I can’t seem to get the words in the right order…go finish the Verlyn’s latest esay at the Times…

I will know when the cherries are ready by their absence.

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