Last night I awoke to the sounds of rain drops pattering on the dusty window sill. I opened the window and the sweet smell of the earth breathing a sigh of relief came rushing inside. I wondered about what new life would awaken out of the slumber of late summer.
As I wandered around the arboretum, curtains of rain showers continued to sweep the day. During one of the intermissions, I heard the soft, whistling calls of a flock of cedar waxwings. When I walked out to an opening by the river, I saw them swooping out and back from a small tree. As I got closer I could see a fluttering of insects slowly taking flight off the ground.
Termites were emerging from a small hole and gathering together in a small cluster. Their wings were delicate and fresh with an opalescent luminance. As they took to the air, their flight was a white, wispy dance. As they silently floated skyward, it felt like a dream. They seemed more spirit than an animate creature of this world.
