Song of the cicadas

It’s a hot sunday afternoon. The hum of my air-conditioning unit and distant cicada songs fill the room. I sit at my desk with a cold lemon soda in hand, contemplating how I should spend the next few hours. I decide I will write.

The past few weeks have been busy; Experiments, conferences, gym, chores. I’m not usually in a functioning-at-full-capacity state, so it’s quite interesting when it happens. I’m reminded of how productive sheer momentum can be—how addictive it can be. When you’re moving fast enough, you plow through most obstacles with ease.

The busyness makes me appreciate moments of stillness more than ever. Sundays are now sacred—an invitation to slow down and get good rest. As I finish the last sentence, the song of the cicadas starts to sound much sweeter. I decide I will stop writing and listen.