Cricket: (n) a jumping, loud insect
The plan was to retire to our sleeping bags and have a full night of slumber—because we had hiked through the woods, played baseball and eaten our fill of hotdogs and beans.
I was ready for it. Not even the fact that we were lying on the ground was going to deter me from floating in sleeper-land.
And then…there it was.
The sound of a cricket.
I laughed to myself. So this is why people come out into the woods—to get all these natural, beautiful intonations from nature, to put them to sleep—like utilizing an electronic sound machine.
Then the cricket invited his best friend, a couple of old high school flames, and pretty soon there was a family reunion of crickets all around me. I tried to get my brain to focus away from the clatter, but it was like they were doing an insect version of the “Hallelujah Chorus,” except everybody was singing the same part.
I tried and tried to NOT think about crickets.
The more determined I was to ignore them, the louder they became, to get my attention.
I am sure I dozed off, but I cannot recall experiencing anything other than having a front-row seat at the cricket’s rock and roll show, all night long.
When morning came and our counselor realized that everybody was still sleepy, he shouted across the campfire, “Let’s all take another hour!”
I was so grateful. The sun had risen.
The crickets were gone.
Only to be replaced by the birds.
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