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the lone cicada
There is something in the change of the seasons that comforts my soul. Perhaps it is the fact that just when one is weary to the bone of heat or cold or damp or dust, another season replaces the one that has become an unwelcome guest. I suppose that growing up on a farm has given reinforcement to my tendency to see the cycle of growth and death, dormancy and rebirth as natural and normal. In Tennessee seasonal changes are usuually abrupt as they blend, one into the other, for days on end before finally becoming a force to be reckoned with. There's a joke that has traveled by e-mail for years about the weather in Tennessee..."if you don't like it, wait 'til tomorrow and it will be different." "If you turn on the heat AND the air conditioning both in one day's time, you're in Tennessee." I have memories of April snowfalls and floods along with freezing cold Memorial Days and a 4th of July that required a jacket around the bonfire. Just when you think you've got Mother Nature pigeonholed, there 'ya go.
the trail 2
I went for a sunset four-wheeler ride yesterday evening, following the leaf strewn path that parallels the river bed. When the engine was cut for the dogs to take a swim, I heard the cicada. Just one..not the chorus that I became accustomed to in July and August. Its' song was short, as if it knew that it was a special treat to be hanging around in November for one last aria. As I type, there is a non-event of a cold front easing through the southeast as it storms through the midwest and northeast. I reckon tornado alley will get a break this time around.
As for me, I'm just waitin' for that first good freeze so the pecans will fall. The guys at Pennington's were kind to me and gave me 40 cents a pound for the first fallen with the black spots from the bugs. The Stuarts are going for eighty cents...but I'll keep those. After all, Santa Claus is coming to town ;)
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