One morning while walking Otis, I was fortunate to see a group of bats settling in for the day. Their formation was astounding. The dance was chaotic and graceful as they swirled overhead, preparing to rest as we were just waking. It was a fantastic start to my day.

When I was a child, my family took nature excursions. Many were in our suburban backyard, but the sense of wonder remained. One favorite activity was throwing tennis balls into the air for the bats to follow. My sister and I spent twilight hours after dinner tossing balls upward as the bats diverted to investigate, then gracefully returned to their original flight paths. Some flew quite close to the ground before deciding the ball was not what they were looking for and speeding back to cruising altitude. It was mesmerizing to watch.

We learned that bats do not strike anything unintentionally and are not interested in humans. Best of all, they consume large numbers of insects each night, especially mosquitoes.

Summer is over by the human calendar, but the air continues to hang heavy way into the evening. When I first moved, the noise of the interstate and HVAC bank was rattling. Now, it’s dumbed down to a constant river with an occasional siren or rig gear. It’s nice enough to sit on the apartment porch, decompress, and watch the bats zip along at eye level. It’s a narrow airstrip from the building to the grove along the fence. They file along one by one. I’m never sure I’ve gotten an accurate count as they make rounds with a slight break before the leader. It won’t be long before they are cuddled up for the winter. I hope, wherever I end up, I’ll always have bats.