Today’s high nearly hit ninety in the heart of Caroline, and with the cool of sun's setting, the wanderer feels the first (and second and third) mosquito bite(s) of the year, while a frenetic little furry flyer, fellow mammal, returns the mosquitos' bites by the light of the crescent moon.
A mere two rotations into the fourth month of her journey around the sun, Earth hurtles through space at unimaginable speed, marking her annual progress in terms of Selene's roughly thirty day circuits of Earth herself.
Thanks to the phenomenon of relativity, we're rather oblivious to all this mind-boggling motion, free to stealthily stalk the source of tonight's Spring soundtrack; the thunderous, thrilling, tremulous trilling of the amorous toads, waxing in sync with the light of the crescent moon;
drunk, as it were, with desire (and moonshine).
The male, from his perch, trills tirelessly, 'til his enticements lure a female near enough to couple.
The ephemeral pond, filled to brimming with late winter's abundant rains, swims now with fertilized eggs, embryos near hatching; emergent tadpoles, tails unfurling, impending explosion of life and motion...
through the vastness of time and space, and right here in this little place, lit ever so dimly by our faithful waxing crescent.
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