the stillness –
seeping into the rocks
© Matsuo Basho)
Summer evenings back in Illinois in the early 1960s were full of voices of children screeching as they played tag, basketball or maybe croquet. Back then it seemed that the cicadas screeched louder and longer trying to make their voices heard over the kids.
When I went back to visit my home state in the summer of 2013, the first thing I noticed was the silence in the streets. What was missing was the sound of children playing. The park equipped with swings, see-saws and other equipment, in the small town where my sister lived, was far better than we had ever had when we were growing up but these were deserted. Where were the children?
“At home playing video-games or surfing the web I suppose.” My sister answered me.
The one thing that hadn’t changed though were the cicadas. In the silence of the playground and lanes their screeching filled the air, and their screeching hadn’t diminished at all.
into the growing silence
the cicadas’ song
© G.s.k. ’16