Every summer I find myself in awe of the ecstatic aliveness, the abundance of green and color. Even the sky seems to be more alive, as do we. Isn’t it even more interesting that the air is alive? There is a beautiful buzzing, especially in the mornings and evenings— it is the song of the cicadas, the males singing to find their mate. I want to share with you a story of love, of heartbreak, of mystery and magic— it is the story of Eos and the cicada.

In Greek mythology, Eos, Goddess of Dawn, brings forth the sunrise each day by riding her chariot, guided by beautifully winged horses, through the sky. She was known as rosy fingers, carried vases to disperse morning dew, and to her indignity, she was cursed by Aphrodite to only be able to love mortal men. the heart wants what it wants, cursed or not, and so Eos fell in love with the mortal prince of Troy, Tithonus. longing for eternity with her mortal lover, she asks Zeus to grant Tithonus immortality. To her surprise, he agrees but Eos tragically forgot to ask for his eternal youth. Tithonus aged endlessly, becoming so old and frail that he begged for death. Unable to end his suffering, Eos transformed him into a cicada, a winged insect that would sing and fly alongside Eos as she corralled the sunrise each day for eternity. Of course, there are two sides to every story. Some writings say that Eos, under her curse for love, lacked true compassion and carelessly turned Tithonus into a cicada, agitated with his elderly state.

To this I wonder: is the cicada singing or screaming.. grieving its fate?

In Chinese lore, cicadas are creatures of significant symbolism. Representing purity, reincarnation and immortality, the people of the Han dynasty (206 BCE-220 CE) placed delicately carved jade cicadas on the tongues of corpses, a funeral ritual believed to encourage the reincarnation of their energy and the preservation of their body.

As summer fades, the song of the cicada fades too. Leaving us behind to reflect on transformation, the completion of seasons, and the intrinsic beauty and many purposes of life, death and the energy that continues on, swirling around us, infinitely recycled into something new. When you hear or see a cicada, I hope you will ponder their ancient magic and mystery.