Crickets

The Chemlawn truck prowled around the neighborhood this week. People pay companies to spray poisons on their gardens. I hope for rain -- cool wet days to wash away the poisons before the chemicals complete their killing.

By late April, crickets sing their scratchy songs every evening. I walk down the driveway after dark and listen.

I pass the house to our West. The yard is completely silent. I continue down the street. The next house is also silent. The house after that has crickets. They are lawn people, but they also have two small daughters.

I continue the cricket inventory. Our neighbors to the East have no crickets. The next yard or two down the way is also silent, but at the corner, crickets are singing their happy tune.

Back in my own garden, I listen. So many crickets -- they make me smile. May they be abundantly fertile.