Beats in timeI can never get lonesome enough to stop worrying about how much is enough and the conditions and qualities worldwide of potable water in 2035, or even 2025, especially at the end of summer when every cricket and locust in the Northern Hemisphere calls out in shadows, practicing their graduation speeches to other Insect Toastmasters and crooning to their paramours until every conscious creature in the woods with ears has memorized them. The most common theme is "We're all in these weeds together so why don't we sing till dawn?" I check my battery-driven Timex travel clock, its ticky beat counter-pointing the bug harmonies. I count seconds using my clock to calculate tomorrow's temperature, its battery a secure promise to endure blackouts, brownouts, shakeups of the nighttime electricity grid. No need for a weather app when the clock ticks and the crickets chirp.