Cicadas ,a creature we call our own

Deep from the forest and by banks of the river when the flame of wild orchid blooms in the shade of spring comes all the way a song, a sound ,a loud cry, trembling in our backyards in our abodes in the mountains . When the sowing season is here, and the smoke rises from the thachet roofs when bird chirps and the sky is evening grey and the children cries the village comes to live with the sound of the cicadas , a sound that has story , tradition and people behind them. Yes we are the tribe of the cicadas.