This story was originally published on HackerNoon at: https://hackernoon.com/the-green-grasshopper. The Green Grasshopper’s clicking is too faint to be clearly perceived amidst these clamourers; all that reaches me is the least ripple, just noticeable whe Check more stories related to writing at: https://hackernoon.com/c/writing. You can also check exclusive content about #non-fiction, #insect-natural-history, #hackernoon-books, #project-gutenberg, #books, #jean-henri-fabre, #nature, #the-life-of-a-grasshopper, and more. This story was written by: @jeanhenrifabre. Learn more about this writer by checking @jeanhenrifabre's about page, and for more stories, please visit hackernoon.com. We are in the middle of July. The astronomical dog-days are just beginning; but in reality the torrid season has anticipated the calendar and for some weeks past the heat has been overpowering. This evening in the village they are celebrating the National Festival.1 While the little boys and girls are hopping around a bonfire whose gleams are reflected upon the church-steeple, while the drum is pounded to mark the ascent of each rocket, I am sitting alone in a dark corner, in the comparative coolness that prevails at nine o’clock, harking to the concert of the festival of the fields, the festival of the harvest, grander by far than that which, at this moment, is being celebrated in the village square with gun-powder, lighted torches, Chinese lanterns and, above all, strong drink. It has the simplicity of beauty and the repose of strength.