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
I have not heard an cicadas in B’ham, but we will. Although I am not a fan of hot weather, I love the clicking, buzzing sounds of summer. Your pictures are beautiful. I have written 9 haiku featuring cicadas over the years. This may be my favorite:
late summer morning
cicadas rock the woods…
naked lady dances
Naked lady is a common name for a flower bloom that is alone on a stalk with no leaves.
Hope you have a beautiful summer.
Peace,
LaMon
I love your haiku, LaMon! Thank you for sharing it with us! Xoxo
I am surprised by how much I am actually enjoying the cicadas! It’s hard to resent any creature who seemingly celebrates its own existence! I’m glad Pepper and Daisy were on hand to help you explore the yard after the storm.
I have found myself feeling weirdly affectionate towards them. I’m glad you’re enjoying them too! Xoxo
I love the shot of Daisy staring at the upright branch, but where is Pepper?
Pepper was probably going to visit her favorite friend Hotch along the property line. He is a magnificent old lion. Xoxo
Jennifer, remarkable–your perspective and the way you frame it, it astonishes me. My 4-year-old granddaughter visited Friday evening–a rare pleasure. This poem hangs on the wall above the top bunk of a pair of bunkbeds here, so grownups below cannot see it. She climbed the ladder to the top, and I read the poem to her. I’ll never know whether she truly understood, but I hope that one day these words will resonate in all the tiny lives so constricted by endless cautions, rules and grownup concerns. I hope one day all four of mine will be Bacon readers. xo
Oh Beth – how enchanting to think of that poem secretly whispering to your granddaughter! Thank you for your loving friendship always. Xoxo
Once I had the first encournter, my interaction with the cicadas is fairly routine. Your preparation helped! Truly anything can be!
We are surviving, Shelby! I’m so glad to be sharing the journey with you. Xoxo
My username
It reads like cicadas sound. Fixed it! Maybe