I was in Wilmington at the time of Helene - daughter and son-in-law here lost some trees and power for about a week. Son in east TN got stranded and was missing for a terrifying 24 hours, was able to shelter with random angels. All told, very fortunate. My heart continues to break for our beloved WNC.
I agree, Deborah, cicadas will never sound the same! And I'm so happy you enjoyed the essay! I feel like it should be required readings in schools or something!
Reading this to the sound of cicadas while immersed in the Italian summer, my favorite (I’m from Italy, but live in the US). I love this sound too — there’s no summer without it. Mary’s metaphors open up a whole new world of meaning for an auditory experience that already carries so much significance for me. The reminder to stay present — just wonderful! I’m now going to close my eyes to this soundtrack and let it help me recenter and reground. Thank you.
“If billions of individual raindrops can collectively re-make a landscape, then can billions of individuals bind together in localized action to re-make a world, an ecosystem?”
I dream of collective liberation. I am wildly, illogically hopeful. Because I emerged from the landslide and the news cycle changed, and ready to scream about it.
May we be powerful like water.
Mary, my hope is that we collectively can re-make a world, too. Your writing went straight to my heart. Thank-you for sharing this read with all of us. Truly it was a gift.
That was an incredible article about the cicadas. An interesting fact: I live in Mexico, and we call them the rain birds. Why? Because each May, they surface with their screeching sound, and, as legend has it, the rainy season will start six weeks after we hear the first ones. Many people make bets on the date. Also, here it's pronounced si--KAH-da. So here, because we look forward to the rainy season, they are a blessing. I don't know if anyone eats them, though. Your writing is beautiful, and the analogies are spot on. Thank you for writing this article.
Thanks so much for the opportunity to publish with you Jane!
Sending hugs from Boone. Such a beautiful piece. Glad for the chance to read it.
Thank you for reading Rebecca! We get up to Boone as much as we can ❤️ Y’all fare okay up there?
I was in Wilmington at the time of Helene - daughter and son-in-law here lost some trees and power for about a week. Son in east TN got stranded and was missing for a terrifying 24 hours, was able to shelter with random angels. All told, very fortunate. My heart continues to break for our beloved WNC.
Glad to hear it.
And yes ❤️❤️🩹
❤️
Ooooh, Mary!! I LOVE your gorgeous, potent essay! I'm so happy and honored to share it!
Mary! Stunning!
So glad you enjoyed it, Tami! I feel the same!
I travel to a different state frequently (Colorado) and hear cicadas - they will never sound the same to me again.
Thank you for this gorgeous and painful but hopeful, essay. I wondered how it could live up to its intro and it did.
I agree, Deborah, cicadas will never sound the same! And I'm so happy you enjoyed the essay! I feel like it should be required readings in schools or something!
Reading this to the sound of cicadas while immersed in the Italian summer, my favorite (I’m from Italy, but live in the US). I love this sound too — there’s no summer without it. Mary’s metaphors open up a whole new world of meaning for an auditory experience that already carries so much significance for me. The reminder to stay present — just wonderful! I’m now going to close my eyes to this soundtrack and let it help me recenter and reground. Thank you.
I'm so happy you enjoyed Mary's essay, Enrica! It's so wonderful when our experiences expand! ❤️
Beautiful and heart wrenching and gorgeous and oh so timely. From another WNCer.
I'm so happy you enjoyed it, Rebecca. I agree, it's such a beautiful and potent piece. I want everyone on the planet to read it! ❤️
Beautiful piece of writing!! I loved it!!
I'm so happy you felt that way, Gale!
This...By: Mary Pembleton
After the disaster, I wrote a post that said:
“If billions of individual raindrops can collectively re-make a landscape, then can billions of individuals bind together in localized action to re-make a world, an ecosystem?”
I dream of collective liberation. I am wildly, illogically hopeful. Because I emerged from the landslide and the news cycle changed, and ready to scream about it.
May we be powerful like water.
Mary, my hope is that we collectively can re-make a world, too. Your writing went straight to my heart. Thank-you for sharing this read with all of us. Truly it was a gift.
So potent!! I'm really happy you enjoyed it, Mary!
You make me wish the cicadas were up here right now to teach me what I need to learn about screaming.
Oh, I love that, Abigail! So glad you enjoyed it!
Thank you!
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Tess!
Jane you were not wrong! Mary, you're such a gifted writer ❤️
Yay, I'm so happy you enjoyed it, Annabel! And, I agree, Mary is sooo gifted! ❤️
Gorgeous essay. Thank you for sharing.
I'm so happy you enjoyed it, Amanda!
That was an incredible article about the cicadas. An interesting fact: I live in Mexico, and we call them the rain birds. Why? Because each May, they surface with their screeching sound, and, as legend has it, the rainy season will start six weeks after we hear the first ones. Many people make bets on the date. Also, here it's pronounced si--KAH-da. So here, because we look forward to the rainy season, they are a blessing. I don't know if anyone eats them, though. Your writing is beautiful, and the analogies are spot on. Thank you for writing this article.
Blue