Cricket

“Cric-ket. Cric-ket.” screeches the cricket that lives outside my window.

When I first heard his* song at 9:30 in the morning, I was puzzled. Don’t crickets usually sing at night, in the warmth of a humid summer evening, as you’re strolling across campus, lightning bugs flickering in the grass?

But no, this cricket sang mid-morning. And I laughed. Because I thought he was confused.

That was five days ago. This cricket sings all the time! When I wake up, he sings to my alarm clock. When I’m home for lunch, he cricks his off-key little song. When I’m home from school, I listen for his tune. And when night descends and the other crickets begin to croon, he joins their cricket chorus.

A few times his song has seemed less than chipper. I’m a little worried that our cricket friend (creatively named Jiminy) is ill, but my roommate believes he’s just slowing down to match the cooler evening.

It’s kind of funny to think that with all that’s going on in my world, here and back home, in my roommates’ worlds, in my friends’, this cricket just sits outside my window and sings, whenever he so desires. I like to think that God’s listening to and chuckling a bit at Jiminy as he sings his little cricket heart out.

*Only male crickets sing.

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