nightswimming

at 10pm the trees are alarming. the cicada vibrations rattle my teeth. crickets keep time and eliminate any possibility of silence.
somehow this sound makes me resent air conditioning.
i remember trying to sleep on top of sheets inches from a box fan precariously placed on a chair. all three windows open, even the roar of the fan could not drown out the sound rushing down from the oak trees.
it was possible to feel miserable and wonderful at the same moment.