Yesterday I heard the last cicadas sing.
And look who arrived on the scene just about the same time.
Studying the shapes of the subject is not the most exciting phase of the dye project. Sluggishness sets in more often than I wish to admit. The insect scene outside shifting from my beloved cicadas to crickets doesn’t help neither.
But before I had a chance to zombify myself, spider lilies turned up, slightly earlier this year, in much like a bull fight fashion.
(Red works for me too!)
Resuscitated, now I’m back on a river-side path where I fell in love with those lilies a year ago. A lady with a dog greeted me back (“I was wondering whether you’d show up this year”). Nice to be remembered as a lily-fanatic with a camera.
Why is it that, while ocean emits big quiet even during the worst of the storms, spider lilies manage to scream without making a sound at all.
The kind that stays in your ears and makes them ring every time you see a certain shade of red.