Early August, evening, and I heard Crickets. I was so happy to hear the sound; yet something evoked a sweet ache of nostalgia. What for? Intense heat? Smoky air? We in Portland have been spared the worst of the 3 digit temperatures, and the worst of the dangerous air days, but knowing how pervasive it’s been, I still was not loving this Summer, intellectually. Emotionally, I still do.
Summer with light lingering into the late evening hours was transitioning. I am sad for its departure, yet glad. Perhaps I was still incongruently feeling my years of retuning to my faculty schedule in the schools? (That was a long time ago)!
Or maybe I instinctevely felt my own years are moving to the end of Autumn, with Winter close by, and far fewer Spring, or Summers ahead. When I set out to write about my ache of nostalgia, triggered by cricket song, I hadn’t intended it to be about my own fading light, my own diminishing verve.
I had in mind trees turning brilliant colors, and leaves then fading to brown and flying off; exposing bare branches against a grey sky. We move to longer nights, and colder air. I too will fade; we all do. So I’ll live every moment with joy and delight. Sing on crickets!
