bugs>boys.

We were laying on the dock again.  This time just our bodies against the wood staring at the dark sky. I have decided  its imperative that I learn at least most of the major constellations by the end of July. Come over and lay with me in August…be amazed.  Conversations on this dock can quickly shift from stars to hair to trees to water to tomorrow to forever to bugs to boys:

Me: Whats that sound?
Jessica: Cicadas. It’s their mating call. The male cicadas are calling on the females…that’s the way it should be. I wish boys were more like cicadas.

I hear the cicadas every single night-but tonight, I will listen in a new way.