The sound of silence.

I am sitting in my living room listening to the frogs’ serenade. They sing in spurts, as if something excites them and they send out a mass communication to their village. A great frog serenade ensues and then just as quickly as it reaches its crescendo, it diminishes into silence. Perhaps it is nothing more than an amphibian response to lunar gravitational pulls. The noise there is in silence amazes me. I am reading a biographical work on the life of Georgia O’Keeffe, and continue to be very interested in photographing the hibiscus I have planted in my garden. Unfortunately, my beauties were affected by some horticulture virus that deformed my blooms and the accompanying foliage. I consulted a horticulturist who recommended a systemic treatment with a nutrient which I quickly applied. I think it may have not been soon enough to save all the plants. Out of a dozen plants only six survived the attack. Among the ones I lost was my beloved hybrid yellow Hibiscus that gave me the largest blooms of the entire crop.