I’ve been spending a lot more time lately looking out at the night because of the arrival of the fireflies. A few days ago, when a flash of lightning lit the sky, a firefly glowed a split second after, which became my OSI post on August 3rd. I never get tired of watching lightning bugs (as they're sometimes called) flash in the dark, but my favorite time to see them is just at the very end of twilight. Last night when I was sitting on the screened porch I saw one flash in the dimness over by the red maple. Wanting more, I stepped outside and kind of spread my gaze, not knowing which direction he went, hoping he wouldn’t fly too far away before the next flash. Then suddenly he flashed again – barely a hand span from my right eye! I jumped and went “Oh!” I was so startled. And then he sailed up over my head. I could just make him out; tiny beetle silhouetted against the last of the fading light. Later, when it was totally dark, except for some distant flashes of heating lighting across the lake in Ohio, I looked up one more time before bed, and was rewarded by another firefly flash, immediately accompanied by the bright streak of one of the Perseids. Are these all coincidences? Perhaps, but I choose to believe there’s a poetry in nature that stands outside the incidentals of weather or even astronomy, that goes beyond the expedients of hatching, mating, egg-laying and death for even the smallest of the living.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.