Usually it’s the sound of cicadas that stirs my soul, their rattling courtship-chorus reaching a feverish crescendo in late August. Summer hits its brutal zenith just before it begins to die. Interesting how August means to increase.
On the last Sunday of August, it’s not the sound of cicadas which captivates me.
It’s the sight of one clinging to the screen in the kitchen window, early in the morning.
So still that I wonder if it’s dead.
I am tempted to go out and see, but I don’t. Let it be. If it’s dead, it will still be there after church and I’ll save its body to show the granddaughters. Cicadas are big insects that evoke terror in many people; I do not want the girls to fear them. The antidote to fear is understanding. Study. Fear not. Maybe even learn to love.
I take a photo instead.
It is a dark morning, like the one in the sermon text for this day, Mark 1:35: Jesus rises “very early in the morning, while it was still dark” to find a desolate place to pray. He’d spent the previous day healing the sick, including Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, and driving out demons.
When I return home, the cicada is gone.
Not dead.
All I have is this snapshot of it resting alone in a quiet place on the grid, with the crape myrtle by the old dog’s grave blooming in the background.
I could write an entire book, perhaps, on the symbolism and metaphor here.
I settle for a poem.
Clinging to the grid
In respite from work
Crape myrtle abloom
August’s crescendo is the last
Defying death in the wings
As love drives resurrection
The cicada and crape myrtle are symbols of life, longevity, immortality, and resurrection.
Summer is dying, but only for now.
*******
with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the weekly Slice of Life Story Challenge
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lit bits and pieces 
I just snapped a photo of a dead one yesterday. My girls had found some empty shells and were curious what the owner looked like. Beautiful images and poem.
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Fran, I love the photo perspective! The screen adds to the presence in your kitchen. The resurrection theme is strong here on so many levels. I love an acrostic, and this one is an acrostic that is so naturally flowing – that’s not easy to achieve! Our cicadas are dead, stuck to the pine trees. I noticed them yesterday, hundreds of them out through the woods and on the edges of the driveway and yard. They are grisly looking, the kind of thing to keep kids wondering. I’m glad they are finally moving on in one way or another. I, too, am ready for the cooler temps! A lovely post, and fascinating how you tie all the meaning together!
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I just love this! You have spoken volumes in these few, beautiful words. Thank you for the perspective and the sharing.
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Oh, Fran, such poetry in prose this morning. I’m sitting here basking in the beauty of the symbols and life. The description of the tree “the crape myrtle by the old dog’s grave blooming in the background” adds so much to the whole story today.
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I am amazed you found such a profound and symbolic poem in a cicada on the screen. It encourages me that I can find a way through that leads me to love and resurrection.
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Oh, your gorgeous writing brought me back to a terrifying moment at the pool two weeks ago. I noticed ENORMOUS insects swarming near our flip-flops. I nearly died when one whizzed by my head. I alerted a manager who had never seen them but put cones around the area. But then, a 12-year-old (Yes, 12. Iz’s age.) girl came up to me and told me they were Cicada Killers and they wouldn’t harm me. I still moved. Then I googled and found this https://www.si.edu/spotlight/buginfo/cicada-killer-wasps and this https://entomology.ca.uky.edu/ef004. I was delighted that we weren’t in danger and that this kid knew way more than three adults (me, my husband, and the manager) about these terrifying insects!
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So much depth in your reflection, drawing the threads of seeing and the abstract together. That is such a fabulous photo to illustrate what you saw. It prompted an interesting thought for me about perspectives, as you described August, which to us in the southern hemisphere, is the herald and not the zenith of summer.
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I, for one, am a huge fan of cicadas. I’m also a fan of your work, so naturally this post made me smile.
And just as always, you tuck a piece of wisdom for me to carry around in my back pocket. For me this week, that was this thought: “The antidote to fear is understanding. Study. Fear not. Maybe even learn to love.” Oh Fran. We’re all just going to have to shout that one from the rooftops.
I also couldn’t help but think of Fran McCrackin’s post from yesterday about another insect friend, arisen from the “dead”… https://pencilonmybackporch.home.blog/2023/09/05/rhinoceros-in-the-schoolyard/
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