Above the lawn the lightning bugs are drawing their green question marks in the warm dark air. The daylilies are open, the afternoons are reserved for thunderstorms, and the droning sound of mowers floats on humid breezes.
It is the season of moving, of parting, of uprooting. The scent of cardboard mingles with dust and cleaner, the screech of packing tape and the squeak of marker pens transmigrating from memory to reality.
We and our friends go out together with the giddiness of mayflies, holding on to the lazy days of summer, boxes and the rattling emptiness of an apartment turned strange casting long shadows in the late afternoons.
It is the longest day of the year, in a season that seems far too short.
Rana! Good to hear your voice again!
Posted by: Pica | 2008.06.20 at 05:56 PM
You write so beautifully.
Posted by: jo(e) | 2008.06.22 at 09:47 PM
Happy Solstice!
Posted by: Wayfarer Scientista | 2008.07.10 at 11:19 AM
Thanks, all!
Sorry the blog's been so quiet - lots to do, and not much internet access, I'm afraid...
Posted by: Rana | 2008.07.11 at 04:40 PM
What a beautiful post, I have always wanted to see fireflies,
Lune x
Posted by: Lune | 2008.07.27 at 01:34 AM
They are worth seeing, if you're ever able to visit the Midwest. June and July at twilight is the best time. :)
Posted by: Rana | 2008.08.04 at 02:17 PM