It is 7:53 pm. I just walked outside into 103 degrees. But more than that, it is deafening out there. You, over there, with your sea breezes and lapping waves–and all you can hear is that lulling. And you, there by the creek, the sound of light rain on all those leafy trees. You outside looking up at the evening sky and hearing…not much. Well, you should come here to experience this Phoenix-in-July thing–Phoenix when everyone leaves but the cicadas.
I walked into the backyard just now to turn off the hose and I was stunned into the noisiness outside my house. The AC on the roof droning on (thankfully)–the cicadas in a humongous chorus chanting their saw-mill grind–the birds chirping some froggy croaking language from tree to tree. And it is intense in only the way the desert can be. It is so loud that it stopped me in my tracks–forced me back into the chair to just stare and listen. I even snapped this picture. Can you hear it? I wish there was sound. Maybe I should have taken video…but it wouldn’t have been loud enough.
This is our summer. We are inside. We are on screens. We are doing perler beads and drawing up a storm. We are so connected. We swim. And it is blissful. Surprising, because ordinarily summer in Arizona isn’t exactly heaven on earth. But it just is right now. It is intense. And we are all here together. We are so wonderfully together. And I’m so unbelievably grateful.
Hope your summer is just incredible. I hope you are the star of your own movie because we so are over here. Even if it is just an interior Chekhovian tale of simple lives–simply going from room to room–hiding from the elements…isn’t that all any tale is? Isn’t that all anything really is? Lives in rooms. Or lives outside of rooms. Whichever it is–be the star of your movie. It is so beautiful. Enjoy.
I have so much to share with you soon. Very, very soon. Stay tuned.