September night
thick-aired, damp,
heavy with weight of day,
slow as prayer
raises the moon
ruddy gold
soon ice white
but,
for this brief Now
of autumn rite,
glowing fermata
over a thousand crickets
piping.
Oddments
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Oddments
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September 15, 2019 at 10:56 am
Applause to the photographer and the writer. That’s one amazing shot. Listening to a thousand crickets means something different to me these days because of the tinnitus. Ah, the joys of aging. 🙂
September 15, 2019 at 11:13 am
Tinnitus. It has to be one of the most exhausting problems we endure. Yes, it would get in the way of every sound we take for granted, like the crickets’ carrying-on. Not to mention getting in the way of sleep. Yeah, the joys of aging.
Glad you liked photo and words! Thanks! The moon was gorgeous, and it was one of those times I wondered how close the neighbors came to calling the police because some weirdo was out on a deck prowling around with a camera in the fading light.
September 18, 2019 at 8:42 pm
I love the way the foliage is tickling the moon. Thanks for the introduction to ‘fermata’, although I hold out small hope of hearing it used often enough to get a firm grip on the word. I like the idea of the day weighing heavy on the night.
September 18, 2019 at 9:04 pm
Thank you! And didn’t the trees outdo themselves? I was quite sure they made that frame deliberately. Fermata is a lovely word, isn’t it? Musical terms can be so…well…musical.