It’s possible my bat house has finally found some tenants. There are plenty of sheds and ancient trees hereabouts, but we got the closest display I have ever seen tonight, after I had spent a big chunk of the afternoon sweating like a squeezed sponge over the spring’s weed overgrowth in the azalea patch. Benches leveled, mulch laid down, lights arranged, a stick of cheap godawful incense (the bugs hate it) lit in a metal cage, we sat down to look at the sky.
All I had on me was my cell phone and even I can’t pretend that you can see a damn thing here, but you can hear the sonar cheeping overhead as a pair of little ones and one big ol’ mama swooped, darted and dived for about fifteen minutes. The big one came down really close, I don’t know why I thought of it as a lady bat but she seemed like she was flirting. You might make out a few flecks of light; those are fireflies. Remember those neon signs that used to beckon along the Interstate — “Eat At Joe’s”?
I realize there’s nothing visible on the clip, but I’m excited.