Melissa Mena

Papaw's Farm

When I was a girl, I would burrow under my quilt at night during the cool, humid summer nights on papaw’s farm. It was so different from the city. I would lie awake to hear the unfamiliar lullabies of the crickets, and the choir of deafening cicadas on those evenings. It was like I was in a different world. A magical one where the day would give way to another world at night. During one of those summers growing up, I remember the wonder I felt at hearing the hoot of an owl for the first time.