Finally, the intermittent rain has given way to glorious sunshine. The natural world is in full song, chant and rasp, and my own spirits have lifted so high that they incline to whimsy. Is it any wonder that I am writing about the many voices that praise the sun?
Old Sol has been venerated by many ancient civilizations. There is the ferocious Aztec sun-god Huizilopotchli, dashing Appolo who swung his fiery chariot over the Aegean Sea, radiant Ra of ancient Egypt, and several sun goddesses including the lovely Amaterasu of Japan. Certainly my own voice has been lifted skyward many times. Once when we were in Florence during the coldest, rainiest spring known to mankind, I was inspired to improve on the famous O Sole Mio by imploring;
Oh, Solo Mio, Where the heck are you? We are so freddo (cold), we’re turning blue!
But human beings are not the only ones to welcome the return of the sun after a prolonged absence. The cicadas, for example, are some of the most vocal praise-givers, and I can imagine what they are shouting now. Now, don’t think that I have completely fallen off the edge of reality. Writers for children do talk about (and to) the creatures of the natural world, don’t they? So imagine with me that the cicadas, who have been glum and silent during several days of cool, rainy days have suddenly seen the bright rim of the sun poking through the clouds: Wowza! There she is, and about time, too! Wake up the gang, Myrtle, and tell them to shake an antennae! Now, if everyone can please hit middle C…Yeah, you, too, Aunt Hortensia!
Cicadas in full chorus would wake anything and anyone out of a deep sleep. Thus imagine the crickets, who have morosely packed it in during the last rainstorm, emerging to a bright new (and noisy) dawn. Yoicks! Those blighters think they actually can play music! We need to roust up the chaps and do a little jamming of our own, what? Let’s show the cicadas what a real band can do!
Birds, not to be undone would already have sent forth peals upon peals of birdsong. Chirps, carols, warbles, trills and coos waft down from the trees. What birds are thinking is simple—Oh, joy!—they cry, as they unfold their multi-layered cantatas.
Truly, we are creatures of the sun, and as much as we long for rain and praise the fall of precious water, we seem to be most drawn to the bright magic of Old Sol. On the Science Channel, lately, I heard that somewhere in the dim reaches of space there is a system of planets revolving around not one but two suns! But since life could scarcely hope to exist under such conditions, I expect that this would be too much of a good thing.
The songs of nature
Fill the heart with such great joy
Words are not needed.