On my way home, I noticed my neighbors’ trash barrel had been knocked over and was hanging into the road. After I got the groceries inside and put them away, I grabbed my flashlight and headed back out the door. It may only be April second, but the weather is lovely tonight. A single cloud is illuminated by the moon, obscuring the otherwise clear sky. The stars shine with enthusiasm; the constellations in no way difficult to trace. The wind has died, and with it, the bitterness of the cold. After walking about seventy meters up the steep road, I pull the barrel right side up and wheel it into my neighbors’ driveway. It’s so nice and quiet and bright. Not yet warm enough to be bothered by bugs. The tall grasses in the field are just trampled remnants of last year’s harvest. The perfect conditions for visiting the fields.
So here I sit, gazing up at the sky and across the expanse before me. You can hear the rush of the air high above and the occasional car traveling down a road in the distance. The symphony of the frogs wells up from deep within the woods; softened by the time it reaches my ears. Tonight is beautiful.
– just a musing from last week.