The male cricket's chirp is the song of September as he sings to attract a mate. Our days and nights here in Maine are currently filled with his hopeful exuberance.  Ditto for the katydids, grasshoppers, and cicadas. It is the insects' time for romance, and they court without cash or cards or wine and flowers. They are simply themselves, wings and all. They remind me that all I need to be is who I am, no more, no less, and authenticity is more attractive than any expensive dress or perfume.