Their shrill drone filled the air. It was time. Time for school to start. Time for jeans that smelled new. Time for books that offered worlds unknown. Time, only days remaining, when my Dad and I slept out under the stars, on army cots, to escape the heat....and listen to the cicdas, giving their cadence to the world. We never said much. Just let the night close in. Got cool. And, finally pulled up the sheets to shield away the cool.
As wonderful as was the night, more wonderful the morning! Don't know when I became awake.
A beam of light from somewhere, I guess. No alarm clocks. You just knew it was time to get up!
You gathered up your sheet....and your cot, and headed for the house. A certain sadness filled that moment. It seemed that business as usual was beginning, when a business that was unusal was ending! Didn't want it to end! Yet, there it was...the sun, and the signal to begin!
Why am I writing this? Because I wish that I had slept more, out under the stars, with the cicadas rubbing their wings together, with all those I hold near and dear. Yes, a few camping trips accomplished this. But, it was being with my Dad, those Cedar Vale cicadas, the rustling sycamore leaves, and the shooting stars that crossed over in the night, that made THOSE NIGHTS SPECIAL!
1 comment:
Wow, Don. That really took me back to CV big time. My parents and I slept out under the stars on cots when the heat was oppressive in the house. I, too, remember those nights under the stars (how many thousands more there were, relative to the skies we now see with light pollution) with affection. Thanks for bringing it all back.
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