Fall is in the air, or should I say the end of summer.
When I listen to the night air these days, I hear only the chiming of crickets. Breathe in, and I detect the earthy scent of the first fallen leaves.
September nights – and days – are far quieter than those of August.
Gone is the buzzing of cicadas, whose huge sound filled the trees all day and into the hottest summer nights.
Gone is the scratchy, three-note tune of the katydid – a summer lullaby or irritation, depending on your taste. (I’m in the lullaby camp.)
In the song that is a summer night, the varied singers make their entrances and exits. One August evening I paid attention. As dusk descended, around 8:15, the cicadas were in full voice. Here and there I could hear a cricket chirp, as if warming up.
By 8:30, the cicadas had exited, and the cricket chorus was front and center.
The katydids joined in just a bit later, creating the duet I eventually would fall asleep to.
Summer will leave us next week, and the only singer left these days – and nights – is the cricket. Even his* sound has slowed, as if winding down with the season.
I will miss the music.
* Fun facts to know and tell: Only male crickets chirp, and his chirping speed drops along with the temperature. There’s even a formula that lets you calculate temperature based on that speed. It’s called Dolbear’s Law, and if you're curious, you can click here.