Locusts Plauging My Heart

I love the sound of locusts.
Most people hate them, but they remind me of my childhood.
When the mid day heat sweltered, the hay, ready to be cut, swaying in a hot summer breeze, an ocean of white tassels.
 
The smell of the field when the chaff floated through the air to gather in the crease of your arms and hair...nose. As we tossed bales into the barn loft.

The new grass that lay beneath panting for rain.
Waiting....patiently.
 
Then there they were, their chatter crescendoing into a a song of unison, letting you know the dog days of summer were in full hot bloom.
Sweat beads running down itchy legs, where red clay dust turned into mud consistency.
Homemade ice cream on Granny's front porch after working on the farm all day.
 
Now, as I sit on my own porch, I hear them reminding me to love the constants in life, and I honestly do, as I simply thank God for the song of the locusts.