summer idyll

August is dog-day season here in Maine and yesterday my children were busy collecting freshly cracked cicada shells - when they found two, yet unopened. We placed them carefully on a tree, marked one with a green dot (Van) and one with a blue dot (Ada), and then spent the day watching them emerge. Scrunched and almost pink at first, they looked other-worldly - but soon the lace wings unfurled and they turned metallic green - and by dusk, Veen was trilling lustfully.

Summer, at its height - such beauty. And I thought of Nabokov's garden and longed for Terra. Certainly, I think it is his favorite season. Do you think so?