As the summer heat calmed down, Suzumushi (鈴虫)reminds us of the conviction for the upcoming season and what a calmness is.
Suzumushi stands for “Bell cricket.” Only male one rubs its wings to make bell-like sound for wooing in early fall.
Usually, their pursuits end in September, but we can hear them in October in 2025. We often say. “Flora and fauna never fail our expectation for the season.” Actually, they depends on the nature, not the calendar we adopted.
Their chirping, we say Nakigoe (鳴き声 ringing voice), affects our aesthetic cense for centuries.
In Manyo shu (『万葉集』), the oldest collection of Wakas compiled in the 8th century, we can find some Waka poems about them.
For example:
“草深三蟋多鳴屋前 芽子見公者何時来益牟”
“草深み こおろぎさわに鳴くや どの萩見に君はいつか来まさむ”
Korogis (in the 8th century, our ancestors didn’t tell Suzumushi from other ringing crickets) chirp among the grasses in my yard where Hagis bloom. I wonder if you visit me to admire them.
In Heian period (794-1185), court noble loved to keep them in a cage.
In Makura no Soshi (『枕草子』), translated as The Pillow Book, the compilation of essays, the author describes Suzumushi and Matsumushi are one of the best insects. At that time, the Suzumushi we know today was called Matsumushi (松虫) and vice versa.
They thought the chirping of Suzumushi sounds like Shorai (松籟), A wind blows among Matsu pine trees.
The differences are:
- Suzumushi・・・”ri-i-i-i-in” periodically (relatively).
- Matsumushi・・・”ri-i-i-i-in” incessantly (relatively).
We can hear them in night and morning.
To keep Suzumushis used be one of the popular things about some decades ago but we still enjoy them in quiet places. (Sorry, lots of crickets chirp and I’m afraid you can’t tell them each other in this video.)
Quiet, we actually find ourselves in tranquility thanks to the song they sing.
In Okuno Hosomichi (『奥の細道』), The narrow road to the Interior, the author composed a famous poem:
古池や蛙飛び込む水の音
It is so tough to translate it though we understand what it means and describes. Let me try:
“The old pond, a frog jumped in. (The sound made) Silence.”
It reminds me of a famous Zen dialogue:
A famous Zen master and an apprentice saw a wild duck flowing away.
The master asked the apprentice, “What’s that?” He replied, “A duck.”
He asked again, “Where?” He replied, “flown away.”
He pinched his nose and said, “It hasn’t flown away.”
Enjoy the video. 合掌
