It’s hot and humid. Tiger lilies are blooming. Wheat harvest is beginning. Little boys are outside playing with sticks, or baseballs, or whatever else they can get their grubby little hands on. We watch baseball on TV and spend 5 nights a week at softball or tee-ball or baseball games. The lake beckons us for a swim, and the creek calls to us for wading. Under a blanket of breathtaking stars, I drift off to sleep to a frog and cricket lullaby.