top of page
  • Writer's pictureLeann Shamash

The Summer Orchestra

Updated: Jul 17, 2021

Long ago, my mother sang a song to me, to my brothers and then to her grandchildren and some of her great grandchildren. The song was about crickets. I remember the words to this day; and how she sang those words. I sing the same words to my grandchildren.

I always know that the summer is well underway when I hear the crickets for the first time and today was that day. The sound brings on both happy and sad thoughts because summer is always so anticipated and before you hear the crickets you might think that summer will stretch on forever. When you hear the crickets sing, you know that fall is slowly sneaking up.

Actually, as I write this little piece and look for information, it seems like the insect that I am hearing is not a cricket, but a summer cicada. I am attaching an article to this post.

I will keep the poem the same....but I recognize that I should probably substitute the name cicada instead of crickets!


You never know when they will begin to play.

July, or perhaps August.

The orchestra tunes up its strings out of site

Hidden in the trees

or sheltered by long blades of

uncut July grass.

And then you hear them

The sound you haven’t heard

for a year.

As familiar as the sounds of summer.

They play,

softly at first,

then growing louder

and stronger.

Their confidence grows.

They know you are there


remembering summers past.

They play harder,

hoping to impress

and the volume deepens.

Louder and louder they play.

The effort of the violinists is enormous.

They play and they play

until they are exhausted.

And they head backstage

for a drink and a rest

before the next performance begins.

And I, the listener,

an audience of one,

will wait eagerly

for their next

summer stock performance.

Here are the words to mom's song as I remember them. I cannot find the song on line so cannot attribute it to anyone.

Chirping, chirping, chirping, chirping

There are fiddlers hiding in the grass!

They are little fiddlers playing

on their violins, I guess.

All day long they play and play

in the same old way, old way.

So-la, so they keep repeating;

That is all they know, I guess!

18 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page