Cicadas

The cicadas are droning in the trees today. I have not heard them much this year. It has not been hot enough. For me they are a sound of summer.

As is the sound of a single engine airplane making its way across a bright blue sky. I remember laying silent on the grass on the back hill behind my house, looking up and just listening to these sounds

At the time, it was a moment, just a break from playing. But looking back, I remember it as so much more. It was home.