August 2nd, 2011
As the day starts to end, a cool breeze gently stirs the leaves of the silk tree by the screened-in porch. It’s very slight, but feels refreshing on my skin after a long day spent in the muggy and sweltering heat. Beneath me the porch swing creaks softly as I slowly swing myself back and forth.
Hummingbird moths’ wings beat a comforting rhythm as they flit from one blooming Four O’clock plant to the other, daintily sampling the nectar from each flower as it opens. The blossoms create a rainbow of color in front of the porch, and give off a light, perfume-like aroma.
Off to the west, the sun is setting low beyond the stand of pine; its red-golden rays making it look as though the whole forest is on fire. A few wispy clouds and a section of the broad expanse of sky that is within the flaming sun’s reach are clothed in gorgeous hues of purple and fuchsia, looking like royalty itself. Just as suddenly as this magnificent artwork appeared, it quickly fades into the calm, dewy night.
By now the frogs can be heard croaking, and the cicadas singing along with them in their own delightful way. A Barred Owl hoots off in the distance and is answered by another, and then another. Suddenly a heart-jumping screech reverberates off the old shed, and then quickly fades into a soft, somewhat comical hooting sound. Almost immediately this owl is joined by the rest, and now the air is filled with their wonderful hooting chorus.
After a while, their hooting fades as they move deeper into the forest. It’s not quiet for long though. Before their song is completely finished, the Chuck-Wills-Widow’s call is heard. His melodious voice is soft, yet strong. “CHUCK…wills-WIDow! CHUCK…wills-WIDow!”
But wait! There is another night bird also sharing his song with the rest of the slumbering world. It’s faint, but if you listen carefully, you can hear it. His fast-paced, upbeat tune is a treat to hear, as he is not around much. It is the beautiful call of the Whippoorwill. “Whip-poor-WILL! Whip-poor-WILL! Whip-poor-WILL! Whip-poor-WILL!” He seems to be moving closer, for his voice is clearer and more distinct. Peering into the deepening night, I catch a glimpse of his shadowy figure as he lands gracefully on the protruding branch of the old pine snag to the right of the shed. He is quiet for a moment before continuing on with his song. Before he is very far into it, he stops abruptly, and then flies off toward the pond. Something startled him.
Listening closely, I notice a slight rustling noise coming from the overgrown fence line, not far from where the night bird had been perched in the snag. A few minutes later, an armadillo emerges from the tangle of blackberry vines and shrubbery, nosing around for a snack. He pauses and rears up on his hind legs, sniffing the air, his tiny ears twitching. Apparently figuring there are no obvious threats close by, he drops back to all fours and continues on his way.
Now the sky is dressed in a dazzling robe of midnight blue, covered with diamonds. The moon has risen and resembles a silver coin, set perfectly among the glitter, and its pale light envelops the world in a ghostly glow as the crickets chirp their summer song.
The air is now a bit chilly, and I take this as my cue to head inside. As I rise from the porch swing, a tiny glowing light catches my eye. This is followed by yet another little flash, and then another. A smile creeps across my face as I realize that those little lantern lights are fireflies dancing through the yard -- those wonderful critters that are so fun to catch and release. I watch them for a few minutes more, and then reluctantly go inside the house. As I do, I thank God for creating such a beautiful and amazing world.
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