The cicada’s dry monotony breaks over me./ The days are bright and free, bright and free.

Jane Kenyon -" Three Songs at the End of Summer"

A lovely poem !

The first stanza -

A second crop of hay lies cut   
and turned. Five gleaming crows   
search and peck between the rows.
They make a low, companionable squawk,   
and like midwives and undertakers   
possess a weird authority.

The whole poem
https://poets.org/poem/three-songs-end-summer

I climbed up on a ladder this morning to paint the trim on a window . I climbed up as high as I needed to and looked up and there was a freshly molted giant bug. A Cicada. He wagged his antennas at me as it to say “ Geez pal, do ya mind? I'm going through some things here”

I left him alone. First I took some pictures

I went to see Amos. The minions stayed off in the background. Some kind of donkey/ mule drama I'm sure.

I Saw Barn cat inside - she anticipates her treats.

Afterwards, she falls into a treat coma.

At the local arboretum - this is, I mean, what…

It's not boring -I'll give it that.

Daisy!

A bee, resting in the sunflower. I wonder what he's thinking?

It's not boring.

The only song about cicadas that I know-

https://youtu.be/3I7CLy70WtI?si=UlWmxg3ZsRxp46PX

A Torenia, I believe. No idea as to the variety. They all kind of look alike to me - that beautiful deep purple

That's all I've got room for - thanks for dropping by!