Several days last week I spent some time in the jungle. No, I didn't visit the Wild Wilderness Safari near Gentry. And, no, I didn't watch an old Tarzan movie. It was more like a quiet walk several evenings in my own back yard.
I misspoke. Isn't that what politicians say? Perhaps I've been watching too much political gibberish on the boob tube. What I mean is, the walks I took in the back yard several times last week were NOT quiet.
It was after old Sol had slipped below the tree line and there was a noticeable cooling that began settling over the lawn, a cooling that in August really isn't that, though the psychology seems to make it seem so.
As night began to settle, and the transition seems to speed after we hit the month of August, the noise that filled the air seemed almost like a jungle. The night "bugs" began their chorus which the heavy foliage in the trees seemed to amplify as each minute passed. I have never been in a jungle, but an Ozark evening on a hot August evening creates a sound that seems to fit the occasion.
The quiet slow steps on the still-green lawn (and isn't that miraculously so this year?) also seemed to set in flight the most fireflies I have seen during recent summers. They were everywhere and, of course, it brought back memories of trying to catch lightning bugs (didn't you also call them that?) to fill a jar which later was opened so the bugs or beetles could fly away and continue their courting ritual.
I have no idea what kind of bugs make all the noise on summer evenings. Of course, I know about cicadas and katydids, but there are other sounds that almost override that zooooie-zooooie of the cicadas which we kids called locusts. It doesn't matter what you call them; they're always faithful in returning every summer.
During the past weeks I've enjoyed reading columns that touched on nature written by Susan Holland. The recent gardening columns by Sam Byrnes have tipped me off on some of the things I've been doing wrong in my gardening efforts. And the trials and tribulations, as well as the good-time farm escapades, of "Bill" are always read with a chuckle, a tongue in cheek or an automatic nod of the chin. That in spite of the fact I know little or nothing about the perils and, yes, the rewards of farm life.
Editor Randy always has words of wisdom that require contemplation and appreciation as he provides his ideas and answers to the problems that plague mankind. Even some as simple (chuckle) as trying to outwit or adhere to his wife's wishes and observations. His photos of nature and especially those of Terry Stanfill which mostly originate at the Eagle Watch Nature Trail near SWEPCO power plant always create an appreciation for the miracles that are around us on every side -- miracles that humanity has spent centuries in trying to analyze and explain, much to their dismay. Fortunately, there are so many things we cannot explain; and, unfortunately, how we screw things up with our feeble attempts to modify or improve.
If you have time some evening, or if you have to take time, enjoy a stroll in your yard, in the park, or just shut off the air conditioner and open a window. The sounds of an Ozark jungle should give you pause to be thankful we enjoy the bounties and surprises of nature and of the fact we can live in the most wonderful place, Westside Benton County in Northwest Arkansas.
If you live elsewhere, pay us a visit sometime. And if you've moved away from this "jungle," call up some memories. Just imagine the sounds of summer bugs and the glittering lightning bugs. It's worth the pause.
Dodie Evans is the former owner and publisher of the Gravette News Herald. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 08/12/2015