No Music Without Coal?

I'm driving back from town with the window down, one hand on the tuner, searching for the game, and I hear an advertisement for coal. That must be it.

"Without coal, you flip the switch, and all you get is this......"    A cricket sings. Nice.

"Talk about the day that music died!" says the incredulous announcer, who must think we all have been hoping for a rousing ballad from Dropkick Murphys.

Tranquility is still in favor in Upper Turkeyfoot. No sweeter music to us than crickets in the dusk -- a sure sign of summer, and six weeks away.

I shut off the Soob and walk the fieldstones to the house. It's a new moon tonight, and the stars will have no competition.

Yardlights are coming on in the valley and on the facing mountainside. I count nine where there used to be none.

This yard is dark, which is why we can see so well, if you know what I mean.

copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved