I finished both The Ragamuffin Gospel and Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry today. I've been trudging through RG since the beginning of summer. I started RTHMC yesterday. I think I will be a little different from now on having read both of them. Of course, every book you've read (every experience you've had, for that matter) will course through your veins for the rest of your life. But these both had significant impact. I recommend them both to everyone.
I went to the park this afternoon to finish RG. Before I read, I thought I'd take a walk through one of the woods trails. Once I got the Frost line "two roads diverged in a yellow wood..." out of my head, in came Thoreau's "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliverately..." As literary and poetic as the whole experience sounds, all I got out of it was about seventy-three mosquito bites.
Speaking of bugs. I have my windows open. I can hear all kinds of bugs humming and chirping. I love how every place has its own unique nightsong. The combination of pitches, loudnesses, and rhythms of bugs, birds, and dogs is different everywhere. I still know the one I could hear from my bed beside the window when Holly and I lived in 325. And I'll never forget the one that can be heard at the farm.
I guess I just love the things you can only see, hear, feel at night. I love the moon. I love the stars. I love the nightsongs. And I really hate being someplace where I can't enjoy them.
Make a point to notice them.