I camped in my back yard last night. I barely slept. The ground was very hard. The air was quite humid. I kept hearing what sounded like animals near the tent and a thin bit a fabric between me and wild animals isn't very reassuring. There was a horrible cat fight at one point in time during the night. And the bugs... I think there were more bugs chirping, creaking, whistling, snapping, clicking and making every onomatopoeia sound imaginable then I could ever have dreamed up in a lifetime. The bugs kept me up almost all night. I never knew that many different types of loud noisy bugs lived in my neighborhood.
The interesting thing about the experience despite the lack of sleep and resulting tiredness is that I’m glad to have listened to the bug symphony and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Yes, I’ve this newly acquired aversion to killing bugs but generally they are annoying, yucky, and seemingly rather pointless. But the sounds which filled the humid night air, the music that overtook my ears, the bugs each uniquely singing with its own distinctive language, all in unison throughout the entire night, like a completely separate world of beings, one we neither belong to nor hardly know exists captivated me and caused me to appreciate just a tiny bit more this world I live in.
(They really were unbearably loud)
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