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The weather is warm and it sounds like summer, the cicadas are singing loudly. But when I listen more closely also hear the sound of spring, from a nest high in the pine tree currawong chicks are calling for food.

Photo: Cicada shell, left after the cicada climbs out of the soil,
clings to a branch then emerges to fly and sing.

Words to walk with:
From Fire in the Heavens by Christopher Brennan
"Behind the veil of burning silence bound,
vast life's innumerous busy littleness
is hush'd in vague-conjectured blur of sound
that dulls the brain with slumbrous weight, unless

some dazzling puncture let the stridence throng
in the cicada's torture-point of song."