If you are familiar with either the play or the movie, then perhaps the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word, Harvey, is a large, invisible rabbit.
No such thing as invisible rabbits in the Gulf of Mexico in late August. But then again, Harvey turned out to be real. A gentle giant. No such thing can be said of the storms that form in the heat of the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
But they – rabbits and storms – are natural things. Like ants. And stars. And cicadas.
A few days back, we stopped at a Welcome Center in Kentucky located just off of Interstate 65. A man was standing on the sidewalk, in the shade of a circle of trees. He was surrounded by a roar of noise that had nothing to do with the big trucks roaring by on I-65.
Cicadas? I asked. He grinned. You bet. We agreed that we’d never heard them be so loud. It’s probably the eclipse, I joked. Probably, he said. But you won’t need to worry until your dog starts speaking in tongues. And then we went on our way. A pair of wags, wandering through the universe.
The man at the Welcome desk asked if there was something he could help me with. I asked him about the cicadas. Why are they so loud?
It’s their last 24 hours, he replied, in that tone of voice more suited to a funeral parlor than a Welcome Center guide.
How do you know it isn’t their first 24 hours? That they aren’t just happy to be alive? But he didn’t answer. It was as if I hadn’t made a sound.
As for Harvey, I prefer the James Stewart version of events. Be safe out there.