A little glass-blowing, again

There is an apple cake baking and a pot of minestrone simmering. My house smells of cinnamon, tomato, sugar, oregano, the particular crispness of early fall night. Outside my window I hear a few cicadas; their summertime Phil Spector "Wall of Sound" music has begun to fade so it's possible to focus on the steady chirp of a single cicada nearby, the rest are just in the background.

Soon they will all fall silent.

Things are shutting down. Yet the Montauk daisies and the sedum are in full bloom.