Cricket, Cricket!

The most emblematic sound of summer is the crickets. When it's warm you can hear them in every patch of grass you pass by. They bring back memories of playing into summer twilights with friends and cousins. This week we're hearing a lot of them. Spain is supposed to get slapped in the face with air from the hot Sahara. Temperatures are rising to over a hundred in the south. Here the slap will be a simple tap on the face. In the interior, towards the Castiles, it'll be in the eighties, but along the coast in the seventies. It's a pleasure to drive with the windows down, the smell of green tickling your nose and the crickets tickling your ears.

Last night, at ten thirty, we stepped outside and we could hear them. It was still sixty degrees outside and a luminous twilight. The first star was in the sky and the crickets were conversing about the day's light and warmth. The sun on the grass and trees had warmed them during the day and they were releasing that fresh smell of green, growing things. A light sweater and sitting on the stoop was utter paradise. The sky was a degraded blue, dark up high and lightening as your eye travelled down to the horizon, where it was still light blue where the sun had said goodnight. A slight breeze barely ruffled the grasses and was still warm. Everything said summer was coming. May and June have always been my favorite months. They promise the glories of living outdoors and freedom from layers of clothing.

It's good to be alive on these days!