I’ve been walking around for days with an eerie, other-world hum in my head. The gentleman next door said it sounds like someone at a distance set off an alarm and he was wondering why they couldn’t get it turned off. Others have said it sounds like something from outer space. I’m not sure what their frame of reference is. It’s difficult to describe. It’s too high-pitched to be called a droning sound. It’s not so high-pitched that it makes dogs bark in pain. It’s constant from daylight to dark.
After a couple of days of this ubiquitous sound, I asked my daughter if she knew what it was. Her instant response: “The thirteen-year cicada!” (I don’t know how she knows these things, but she does.) I am relieved to have a name for this puzzling phenomenon. My next question, “How much longer?” didn’t get a very satisfactory response. “Maybe another two weeks.” I understand they’re harmless. Once they’ve mated, they’ll go back underground. I read an article in The Christian Science Monitor that said they stay underground for 17 years in the north. Lucky northerners.
Sometimes I’m sad and I have no idea why. I have learned to accept when I’m happy. Not to question. Just accept it. Maybe I should do the same when I’m sad. It’s really hard not to examine the sadness, though, and try to figure out why. It’s especially difficult when I’ve done all the usual things to try to cheer myself up and haven’t succeeded.
I know that the weather affects me sometimes. I’m usually pretty happy on sunny spring-like days. Like this weekend. We’ve had glorious sunshine and 70-degree weather for the entire weekend. So what’s to be sad about? I went outside and pulled weeds and did a little spring cleaning in the yard. I thought it might help to take in some of that sun and light and vitamin D. I picked some gorgeous daffodils and put them in my favorite blue vase. That was yesterday. Nothing I did seemed to help. I was still sad.
Today, Sunday, I feel better. Still a little iffy, but better. Weekends have been tough ever since D left. I must say they are, as a rule, not as bad as they once were. I think I’ve done a pretty darn good job of accepting what is–most of the time. But when I think about it–and think about it, I must–there has been much to be sad about recently. I don’t ordinarily worry about things I can’t change. Like natural disasters. But it’s been difficult to avoid worrying about nuclear meltdown in Japan and all those unaccounted for people. And the tsunami headed for our west coast and Hawaii. And what the Republicans are doing to our country. And to Wisconsin.
OK. I think I get it. I need to watch the news less as I’m coming up on a weekend. Holy cow! Talk about depressing. No wonder I’ve been sad. Back to the pillowcase dresses tomorrow. Happy days are on the horizon.