town blue

There were the usual noises that one grows accustomed to hearing, after many years living in a small, minutely populated area. The sounds of crickets in late August was so raucous, that the tourists who spent the summer months in Crooks Lake could be heard in the village, complaining of sleepless nights encountered because of those noisy crickets.

There was occasionally the sounds of modern life infiltrating the village when you could hear the odd car speed through the town or the sound of a lone horn blowing at a sheep to get in off the road.

Yes, the usual sounds could be heard that August night but if you listened very close, there was something not quite explainable and practically inaudible, but a lot of the town folk of crooks lane knew instinctively that something different was reverberating through the blades of grass that night and it wasn't crickets.