cicale's

Updated: May 12, 2025

In a soft mossy nest, where a breeze from the mountains played with the in and out ways of the wood, and the murmurous dream of genial insects now was beginning to drowse upon the air, and the heat of the sun could almost be seen thrilling through the alleys like a cicale's drum here, in the middle of the languid peace, I waited for the terror of the rifle-crack.

R. D. (Richard Doddridge) Blackmore - Erema — My Father's Sin