memory triggers: the sounds of (late) summer

memory triggers: the sounds of (late) summer

there is humid, and then there is HUMID, some wise man said sometime or something… yesterday was one of those days, the kind of weighty yoke that slows the world down to near motionless, every effort seems an affront to good sense, sweat is not an option just a nod to how much and how swept, you can see the air frying and understand how mirages work, adding to this physical dissonance is that strange sound, some might describe this as a buzzing sound but yet to me the truth lies somewhere on the spectrum elsewhere, maybe the union of a common snake’s hiss and a raged rattlesnake’s rattle, and like the waves of heat that seem to break upon your face that sound is much the same, rising and falling in some strangely robotic chorus of the natural world, is this displeasure? a warning? of course the mystery is gone, we know cicadas are the cause, but as I regularly do (and I do) I wonder about the time before these things were plain and easy to find out (in the palm of your hand if you will), if you close your eyes and listen to the sound, what mysterious creatures or demons abound? I imagine trees dripping with perfectly camouflaged pit vipers, curled around the branches like leaves among leaves, ready to strike at any passer by who’s senses are worn down by the withering heat, or maybe these are the sirens of lore, just land born, lulling you with their waves of song into a desperate shore, to what end? only they know, so they sing some more bars…


you know, maybe I am overthinking this, the actuality, the reality, the actual cause of the noise is something one might not believe, little bugs, critters, supposed dwellers in the cellar of the hierarchy of life, cicadas, vibrating a membrane to the point of insane, a coital chorus of love, I suppose we all dance to a different song, but that sound, my mind is instantly tied and kidnapped to the end of summer, the lazy hazy days of late summer, is this August yet? no… not quite, but this sure feels like it, the end of summer, the closing of the funhouse is around the corner, but yet I want more, but as many years pass, so do the chances, so heed the song, and remember this is all, passing.

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