Cricket in the lawn strip

Tonight I ate my first beets from the garden. They were bitter, as Talya had forewarned. This garden that has been such an abundance of joy and pride for me in its jungly finery is dying. Gone are the squash plants, victims of powdery mildew. likewise the cucumber. The bean tepees are drying up. I will miss the complements of passersby. Tonight Tula was fervently barking. At first I ignored her as she is a barker, but then I became convinced that someone was stealing the enormous pile of firewood sitting in our driveway. I stepped out into the unseasonably warm night. There was no one there but a very loud cricket, chirping away, hidden in my the dying yarrow and sunflower stalks of the lawn strip. I was glad to hear his voice.