For Laurie

Tumbling over rolling green hills toward the coast in our tiny but efficient rental car, we spied a beautiful dome towering above the forest of gum trees (aka eucalyptus). I squealed with delight when I saw the sign for the Baha'i Temple and insisted we pop in for a visit (yes, I am picking up a nifty Australian vocabulary already.)

Parking beneath a shady grove of gums, we emerged from the car into the most cacophonous insect din I have ever heard. To describe the symphonic wing beats of millions of cicadas as ‘deafening’ may seem a trite overstatement, but no other word can suffice. The collective buzz is so loud that it by-passes the ear drums altogether, penetrating directly into the brain, plucking all 12 of the cranial nerves so that your entire body vibrates with the rise and fall of their love sick song. I stood in awe gasping for breath, my heart swelling with love for these unseen flying musicians.

After a brief stop at the visitor’s center, where an asthmatic and red-faced volunteer gave us a disjointed narrative history of the Baha'i religion, we strolled up to the temple for a look-see. Seemingly ornate at first glance, the temple was actually quite plain. Nonetheless, I fell into that mysterious spell that overtakes me in houses of spiritual worship. I sat in a plain chair, nestled among copies of the Koran, the Bible, the writings of Krishna, the teachings of Buddha and a few other more obscure religious texts and whispered a prayer - a prayer of gratitude for all that I have; a prayer of protection for all those whom I love; and a prayer of unity for all mankind. My eyes welled-up with tears as I felt a wave of peace and hopefulness wash over me.

Kevin clucked his tongue and waited outside.