Knelt down by my answering machine and was struck by the silence. Thick, muffled silence for a few long, delicious seconds, pounding on my ears. I wondered what, besides the noise of humans and their machines, was missing.
Then I heard it--a lone, sodden, slow cricket chirp.
Contrast that to this morning. A bit gloomy yet for the walk to the bus, but lovely caresses of pastel rimming the cumulous to the east. The whole hillside below 'the Wall' was a mass of sound. Hundreds upon hundreds of crickets, at varying pitches and intervals, all their voices blending into a curtain of high, rippling, almost eerie keening. Beautiful! Only by straining could I distinguish the voices of the nearest.