(Not) Found Friday #33: Cicada Season

Brood X. That’s what they’re called. Billions of cicadas, emerging from a 17-year underground nap, all over the Northeast U.S., including Northern Virginia.

These critters are seriously fascinating. I know they’re a little odd to look at, but they’re just the sort of oddity of nature that I find super compelling. (I’ve never been particularly squeamish about bugs. Well, except ladybugs. But that’s a post for another day.)

I hear these little winged weirdos are pretty good for the environment, and, though I’m not brave enough to try them, one restaurant nearby is even serving them in tacos.

It’s too bad I haven’t seen a single one at my house. Those pictures? My sister-in-law, who lives a few towns over, took them. This one, too.

Apparently, I live in a tiny pocket of Loudoun County that sees a different brood’s migration. I’m disappointed. I feel like this should be the soundtrack of my early summer…

…but alas, all’s quiet around here.

Happy Place (A Poem)

On summer days,
my happy place
is not a beach
or mountain path.
It’s so much more
(or less)
than that
(depending on
how you look at it).
My happy place, when
the weather’s warm
and the days and nights
are long and quiet,
is by your side
wherever you are.
My happy place
on summer days
(and winter, fall,
and spring days, too)
is a whole world:
me and you.

Thank you for 300 followers!!

I’m so excited, you guys! I’ve hit 300 followers (plus a few more!), and I’m so grateful. I mentioned in a post when I hit 200 followers earlier this year (and I think in a previous one before that…) that I’d like to do a Q&A, and I’ve not had a chance to sit down and write everything out yet. So, if you have questions for me, post them below! I promise a Q&A post next week. 😊

In the meantime, thanks to each of you who follow my blog and read my work. I appreciate it so much, and I love being part of this wonderful, supportive, creative community. Y’all are the best!

Found Friday #32: (Almost) All Grown Up

The fox kits that live under our barn have been extra active this week. Look at them!

They’re almost grown! They’re so big, you guys. And their little tails are so fluffy! I’ll be sad to see them leave their den, but red foxes tend to stick to the same area their whole lives, so hopefully we’ll still see them around from time to time.

True story, y’all…

My mom and I were having a funny conversation a couple of weeks ago, talking about how stubbornness runs in the family. Like, both families. My dad’s and my mom’s. And so I come by my stubbornness honestly, and I told her that. I added that out of the three of us, I thought I was probably the least stubborn, and my dad was the most. She said she’s much less stubborn than me. I told her she’s absolutely more stubborn than I am. (Though we both seemed to agree that my dad is the most stubborn of all of us, so there’s that, I suppose.)

This (good-natured) back and forth went on for a little while, and then Graham (poor Graham), came upstairs to make a cup of coffee. So of course, I asked him to settle the matter and declare which of us – my mom or me – was the least stubborn.

“Your mom,” he said. “You’re so much more stubborn than your mom.”

She burst out laughing. I objected. The conversation eventually moved on.

And then I sat down today to write a poem for the blog. I wasn’t even thinking of the stubbornness conversation. Honestly, I was sitting in my chair looking outside at the sunshine and the cardinals in the yard, happy as a clam.

But, well, this is what I wrote:

Please, by all means,
tell me I can’t.
There is no better way
on the face of this planet
to ensure that
not only can I,
I will.

Y’all, I think Graham may have been right…