When the humidity broke last week after the rain and thunder rolled through, the first thing I did was open the windows. No matter that it was well into the evening. The air inside felt stale and needed a refresher that only outdoor breezes could provide. Having grown up without air conditioning, I associated summer with those constant breezes blowing through the house. It was time to welcome them back in.
With the rest of the family out for the evening, I was enjoying some unusual quiet time and stood alone at the back door, feeling renewal in the air and listening to the sounds of summer in our backyard. After clicking off the TV and putting the phone on mute, I stepped onto the deck and into the inky darkness. Other than a few lights still glowing in the neighborhood, only the thin crescent of a moon emitted any brightness, and I found myself drawn to the concert playing out on the lawn I could barely see. The rustling of the leaves from the lingering light wind. The scampering of critters in the woods beyond the yard. The muffled barking of the neighbors’ new pup down the street. And of course the cicadas and the crickets, with their rhythmic cadence that is synonymous with a late summer evening. Since the air conditioner had shut down and the noises of local traffic had ceased, it was simply those sounds of nature and purity that greeted me.
A streak of lightning suddenly sliced the sky, a remnant of the storm just passed, followed by the predictable clap of thunder that rivaled the delicate music I had been relishing. Fireflies blinked in the distance. Breathing deeply, I caught the familiar fragrance of damp pine needles, and carried on the breeze were the scents of honeysuckle still climbing the porch lattice and wisps of smoke remaining from someone’s distant fire pit. Despite the pleasantry of the sights and smells, it was the sounds that my mind returned to, and all I had to do was listen.
Of all the moments of summer I treasure, few are as peaceful or restorative as those found in the mesmerizing songs of nature, where God somehow seems closer. “Be still,” He tells us in scripture, “and I will be exalted in the earth.” It is those natural sounds, those He created, which gave me pause. Feeling these cherished moments wane as autumn quickly approaches, I tried to capture each one, reminding myself to be still, appreciate the gentle breezes, and listen, just listen, as the worldly sounds slipped away and summer’s symphony played its magical tunes for all those called to hear them.
By Emily Clark
