Kuunari

Sitting outside, a cool early autumn evening. None of the stars will peek their heads out from behind the city-illuminated clouds.

A blinking light is all that can be seen of a plane making a late night landing at the international airport. Through the trees of the neighbor’s yard, I can just make out the bright tops of the buildings downtown.

Here in my backyard, I can hardly hear the sounds of the city. Instead, I hear the deafening buzz of insects, frogs, and birds as they make their evening orchestral machinations. In the distance, I hear the low rumble of cars, or is that just the fan keeping the rain emboldened mosquitoes away?

Occasionally, I’ll hear a back door open and shut and a cough from one of my neighbors, but with my back porch light on all the other backyards are shrouded in darkness. One or two windows on each house shine out into the darkness, suggesting habitation, but for being a city dweller, my backyard makes me feel very alone.