I can’t sing. I couldn’t carry a tune if you paid me. But when something touches you so wonderfully, when you find yourself caught in a moment in nature that inspires you soooo much….you just want to belt it out!
Well, luckily for you, I don’t sing… I paint and when I want to treasure something I experience, I occasionally write poems about it.
That’s what I did last night when I heard the melancholy song of the lone cricket. He sang for hours. Alone by himself his chant was very, very slow. It was pretty chilly last night so that explains the pace. I kept thinking…is he sad winter is approaching? Is this his melancholy song?
I hear a lone cricket.
He sings a slow tune,
For the night is cold,
And the frost comes soon.
Anyway, there was something profoundly peaceful about hearing one insect’s voice in the dead of the night. I will treasure it forever.