August In The Midwest

The mornings are drenched in dew that clings to everything it touches, coating even the silken strands of a spider web. The heat comes early and tries to claim each droplet as the cool earth pulls it back into white waves of fog before letting go. As the sun climbs higher the fragrances of the wet grasses and musty soil give way to ripening fruit and the earthy smell of mushrooms and nuts.

The sun, intense and relentless, fills the days with heat and humidity, helping to slow the frantic pace of parades, picnics and family vacations. The sounds of fireworks and brass bands are replaced by a symphony of insects and birds that reaches a crescendo with the rhythm of the cicadas. The trees, so laden with leaves they seem weary from holding them up, are motionless in the still heavy air.

The evening ushers in breezes with a hint of coolness but so thick with moisture that they seem to caress the skin. The cool clamminess is a welcome exchange for the stinging heat of the days. The night song of crickets and frogs join together, rhythmically rising and falling like the chords of an organ, soothing and peaceful.

August is not the end of summer it is the peak of summer. It is God’s nature on joyous display and a time to rest, before the harvest, in the fullness of His creation.

I Know You Don't Hear a Word I Say

I know you don’t hear a word I say
But I only wish there was a way

To tell you how important it is
To heed the advice I’m about to give

On the highways and the byways
Danger lurks both night and day

Any driver can make an error
And there are some that just don’t care

You wouldn’t believe the things they’ll do
Instead of watching out for you

I wish I could communicate
And save us all from the heartache

Please look both ways and make sure it’s clear
You’ve got to be very careful - Deer