The storm came through, as storms do.

In its wake I found a branch nearly as tall as a man standing straight up in the earth.

It had fallen from the highest reaches of the old bur oak, suggesting this: anything can happen. And might.

Cicadas crawled up from their cozy resting places in the earth soon after the storm. They came quietly at first, dazzled by the world. Shedding the skins of their youth, they felt strength in their wings. Humming, buzzing, seeking, swooning – they lived each day in the glory of the day.

For two weeks, the branch stood upright in the ground.

When it fell, the cicadas did not seem to mind. But I did.


Listen to the Mustn’ts
By Shel Silverstein

Listen to Mustn’ts, child, listen to the Don’ts.
Listen to the Shouldn’ts, the Impossibles, the Won’ts.
Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me.
Anything can happen, child, Anything can be.


Having dreaded the emergence of the cicadas, you might even find them beautiful as you float above yourself in their songs