Ceaselessly it seems waves of cicadas sound swells

and breaks upon the heat of day.


Pictured: Neotibicen tibicen tibicen
(aka morning cicada, swamp cicada)







On the slim margin of Little Crum Creek, few moments, though tender, can be private.

Like last year’s fawn, this summer’s newborn deer waits patiently on a hill under maple shade and weed, occasionally roaming to browse, until momma returns for a suckle and nuzzle in the surrounding sound of cicada songs.




Little Crum Creek has recently enjoyed a welcome relief from July’s heat & humidity.

Friends featured here continue to come & go.

The fruits of mulberry trees are fully gone now, and wineberries have largely departed from their brambles.

But pokeweed has been flowering & fruiting new green berries.

Easily approachable young robins still wait on lawns for feedings while  mallard ducklings, nearly full-grown, paddle up and down the stream for strength & skill in a burgeoning school behind mama marm.

Bankside, a new generation of lean woodchucks dart along paths into holes, not yet waddling comically like their elders, who easily mosey into close proximity of anything still and quiet.

Cicada songs steadily increase throughout the day.

And evening’s flicker of fireflies are suddenly past peak, waning with Friday’s Full Buck Moon.

The namesake deer occasionally turn stones under hoof in the traversable stream, snapping brush & fallen branch to browse the delicate jewelweed …

which has just shown its first few ephemeral flowers…

under the full red maple …

and blue cloud sky.