I’m grateful for my single cricket, and to Viv, who taught me to notice. For the great pale streak of fur that dashed through the nighttime across my path, then crouched where I couldn’t find it before rushing by again as I searched. The animal was silent, and I sneaked around a corner to spy it finally make its fluffy escape into the dark. I’m glad I told the sky my plans. Much more so when I caught it responding in quick streaks. Plans went, and well enough, then I returned home. A tree-sized burst of rich magenta blooms had appeared, bold and fragrant, in my absence. Tonight the cricket is hosting a whole bunch of friends.

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