Summer is dying now, taking with it one of the things I love best: The song of cicadas.
If you’ve ever heard cicadas in full throttle, you might not agree with “song” as a fitting description of their cacophonous buzzing. It’s not pretty. The noise can be deafening.
Yet when I hear that first discordant rattle sometime in May, my spirit rises, my own heart sings in response.
The song of cicadas calls to me from long ago, when I was a little city girl spending sultry summers in the country. The song evokes narrow dirt roads keeping an ominous forest from encroaching on rustic homeplaces, tiny cemeteries where baby after baby is buried under white monuments adorned with lambs, and the old church just around the bend. The song is one of ages, the rising and falling of generations, all of us coming and going in our time. It is a song reverberating with tire swings hanging from pecan trees, canals teeming with frogs and turtles, white-tailed deer bounding up from lush ditch banks along fields at dusk. It is the bright song of the sun, of hope, of continuity. It is the dark song of the night, oddly comforting; something out in the blackness is vibrantly alive, maybe keeping watch, while children drift off to sleep. It is the sound of safety, stability, belonging. Calling and calling, the crescendo mirrors the rhythm of life, brimming with promise, echoing eternity. When I hear it, I am a child again, no matter how many summers have come and gone. My home is in the countryside now and it is with a deeper pang each September that I note the song fading out. Every May, as I mark another year of my existence, I listen for the first returning rattle. You’re back! my heart sings. Ah, but we were here all along, they might say, if cicadas had words. There’s a lot of living and loving yet to do. You have today. Carry on.
Reflect: What’s one thing in nature that inspires you? Why?
This is so beautiful. I love the sound of a cicada. It brings me aback to warm days of my childhood. Living on the West Coast, in a big city, I don’t hear it any more.
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Delighted to know a fellow cicada song lover! I suppose the West Coast makes up for the lack of cicadas in some way -! I would miss them terribly. Thank you for reading and commenting. My best to you.
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Truly a sound of summer. Lovely lovely slice here. Thanks for sharing today.
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Thank you, Lisa, for reading! And thanks to all at TWT for keeping the inspiration going.
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I love humming birds — they never cease to amaze me or delight me when I see them. Thanks for causing me to pause and think about what inspires me in nature.
Clare
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Yes, hummingbirds are truly wondrous, both delicate and powerful. They would be fun to write about! Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Clare.
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There’s so much in nature that makes me wonder or stops and gives me pause. Off the top of my head, falling leaves, butterflies and streaks of lightning are wondrous to me.
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What beautiful images, evoking everything from loss to hope to awe. You’re right – nature provides endless wonder. Thanks so much for sharing here.
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