Looking Up

There is a coolness in the air now, it’s long sleeved shirts for morning walks. Evening symphonies are closing down as the cicadas pack their instruments. Concussive black walnuts, too green and round to be natural, plummet from on high and bestrew wooded trails where only the box turtle walks with impunity. Percussive acorns loosened from the high oaks hovering over our parking area rain down, hammering our cars and gathering in the windshield wells.  In aviaries, looking up comes at a calculated risk — but that risk is magnified here. And the real rain, when it comes, which is often and with short warning, can be Singaporan.