The Crickets and US

Anneka, 11th- Vancouver, Canada
Imprinted in my skin is the embrace of warm air, punctuated by bursts of cool breeze
Imprinted in my memory is the sound of crickets chirping
They sound green and crisp and lively; they chatter just as insects do - their voices harmonizing in a symphony orchestra
They are muses to the rolling slaps of waves on flat sand and jagged rocks
The drums. 
Pine trees and meadow grasses swish and sigh in the meadow air, a string quartet of foliage. Above it all, laughter splatters the piece like lyrics
Bits of conversation rise above the music in audible smiles
Finishing touches to a song of summer. 

And I sit in the middle of it, and so do my friends, our bodies running on fresh seafood and salad and coolers 
The past has dissolved, the future is an eternity away, and nothing in the world could possibly be wrong
And it’s all that we can do to soak up as much of this beautiful island music that we can.

It seems our eyes were carefully made for this very moment - made for the scenery that is reflected in them right now. 
Colors of tangerine orange and dusty pink dispel into deep blues and emotive purples as the night approaches 
It creeps over the pinks and oranges until they disappear completely
Stars begin to show their faces. 
They are so friendly with each other that they unite to form pools of sparkly white.
It’s called the milky way, but to me, it looks more like angel dust.

And beneath the watercolor painting that is the night sky,
The crickets chirp and the waves slap and the grasses brush and we listen and watch.
It’s all that we can do to revel in the collective beauty of the here and now.
Later, the sky will be awash with black, and the island will be soothed into sleep 
Except for the crickets and us 
There seems to be infinite time for crickets to sing their songs
And for teenagers to whisper and giggle
Select few have felt the serenity and the beauty and the deep listening that I have, 
And my friends, 
And the crickets. 
And we are so lucky.