Cicadas and crickets play their songs
among the silence that surrounds.
A gentle sort of quiet
broken only by nature's sounds.
The sky is endless blackness
stars, the only light.
Like a cloak, it settles over day
and covers it all night.
Scents linger in the air
carried upon a breeze.
The smell of hay and wildflowers
mix with those from tall pine trees.
A rustling of bushes
their branches moving about
could be that of graceful dear
or hungry bears coming out.
Nighttime in the country
is so relaxing and so pure.
With none of the noises that cities have
just a peaceful, serene allure.
2002