This was a curious read with some hits and misses. In the moment, I didn't really pick up on the allegory about one's place in society, but after reflecting, I found that it was actually fairly heavy handed, yet lost in excessive descriptions of the setting and internal commentary. Not that I minded, though. I found the hyper focus on the descriptions of the summer, the grass, and the cry of the cicadas to be filled with nostalgic lethargy, reminding me of my own home. That was probably my favorite part of this story where everything else fell just a bit flat. While the overall theme was heavy handed, there were aspects of the story that didn't seem to fit and weren't explained, leading to an almost misplaced feeling of whimsy. This kind of mysticism in literature isn't bad by any means, but pairing mysticism with the over explained allegory made it feel disjointed. At the end of the day, I found it to be a beautiful, sensory read which partially made up for lacking construction.