I was thinking recently about a funny experience I had several summers ago when some friends and I drove to rural Connecticut for a quiet summer weekend. We arrived after dark and when we opened the car door the sound of crickets was deafening, and unfamiliar to our city ears, especially those of their 5-year-old, Katherine.
“What’s that,” she asked.
We told her and her eyes grew big.
“Are they real crickets,” she asked.
And so began a city child’s weekend in the country.
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