The sound subsided...

It seemed as though nature had forgotten its seasonal rendezvous, as the cold and rain continued throughout January and February, even into March; there was even some minor flooding, as if it were the height of winter! The late spring sun was nowhere to be seen, the bare branches of the crape myrtle trees remained dormant, occasionally the north wind could be heard rustling, but there was no sign of summer anywhere…

And yet, April has arrived. April's baggage is filled with an unmistakable sound, a sound that is unmistakably summery! Well, the sun isn't yet golden, the sky isn't yet clear blue – perhaps – but the buzzing of cicadas is a 100% certainty that summer has arrived. Intense, majestic, resonant, and passionate – this sound, a recurring event, has never before been so urgent and fervent in affirming the arrival of summer as this year! It's already arousing at five in the morning. It reaches its peak at ten.

After a short lunch break of a few hours, the afternoon shift begins. From solos to harmonies, high notes and low notes reverberate! Cicadas perch on the green trees. They land on roofs and walls. They even crawl through windows into houses. These grayish cicadas, resembling giant flies or bees… with thin wings and large, round eyes. Cicadas are approachable, gentle, and friendly, allowing mischievous students to catch them and bring them into the classroom, lining them up on desks. Occasionally, they'll gently press on the backs of the male cicada "musicians" to make their wings flutter and produce their "e…e…" sounds for fun!

Illustration: Tra My

I don't understand why those cicadas are called "cicadas." "Sadness? They're noisy and boisterous, like a festival!" my friend joked. Thinking about it calmly, it's not without reason: the cicada's music is noisy, but it's probably not sad! Perhaps it's a reflection of the circumstances: a sad person makes the sounds of summer seem sad too. Summer, the season of farewells, of leaving friends and school, that's probably why it's sad. But that's all in the past now. Now, when summer comes, most kids are on summer vacation; if they're not in school, they're heading to... extra classes. Of course, the cicadas can freely sing their symphony announcing the arrival of summer without fear of upsetting anyone. Their lively sounds welcome the most glorious and bright time of year: golden sunshine, deep blue skies, and a strong southerly breeze!

As a child, I only knew about cicadas through…books – even though I was a country child who loved nature and could readily describe the “movements” of butterflies, bees, dragonflies, grasshoppers, crickets, and house crickets, when it came to cicadas, I was completely clueless! I had to imagine or “copy” other people’s ideas.

It's easy: the image and sound of the cicada have entered music and poetry quite a bit – including world-renowned works like the fable "The Cicada and the Ant" by the French poet La Fontaine! La Fontaine's description of the cicada's "behavior" seems rather "negative": lazy, unwilling to work, only concerned with singing, leading to poverty and hardship...

Yet, strangely enough, after reading the poem, I still felt… more affection for the lazy, romantic cicada than for the diligent, pragmatic, and cold ant. It wasn't until much later, when I grew up and learned about science , understanding the life cycle and habits of cicadas, that I realized the "sentence" La Fontaine leveled against the cicada in his fable was clearly… unjust! It turns out my childish intuition back then was right to stubbornly hold affection for the poor cicada even though I didn't know it had been "wrongfully accused"…

As if to thank me for my humanistic thoughts, the cicadas on the tree by the window suddenly began to chirp, humming a late afternoon tune for me. One of them, in high spirits, even flew through the window following the light, landing on the table in a friendly manner, its wings fluttering...

Source: https://baodaklak.vn/van-hoa-du-lich-van-hoc-nghe-thuat/202504/thanh-am-ha-b87063a/