Vespers in gloaming light

From the back porch:

Summer sounds like this:

The cicadas calling back and forth from one group of trees to the other.
The fountain recycling water, round and round every afternoon.
The wind shushing in the trees way up high and then moving south towards the ground, tickling the tiny bunny as they nibble buttercups.
Crickets warming up their strings in the early morning and early evening in the flower beds below.
The heat cracking the awning in the sun, so hot it changes shape.
A bird song, the same so often you whistle back.
The lawn mower humming while throwing up the sweet smell of grass.
A wind-chime signalling a storm on the horizon.
The porch swing creaking a familiar melody of comfort.
The frantic beat of the hummingbird wings as they jet to the feeder for sugar water.
The microwave beeping to let you know a cup of tea is ready.
The sigh you make when you take your first sip and are thankful for all the green you see when last summer it was so very grey.

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