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October 26, 2007


Several weeks ago, I heard the solitary call of a newly emerged cicada. He was a little early but he did what he had to do; calling, waiting, calling. It seemed that there was no response. It pained me, knowing how little time he had. I wondered, would he be able to fulfill his life’s purpose? The all TOO funky seasons, weather, climate – damn, damn, damn. It brought tears to my eyes.

Not long after, he had company and the party really started. Within a week or so, the cicada chorus really hit its straps; their sound was constant – a metallic and shimmery pulse, rising and falling from daybreak to sunset. Oh, it was also very, very loud. My feelings were not so benevolent after days and days of the cicada overture.

Mercifully, over the last few days, there has been some rain and brief intermission in the cicada chorus. The second act will resume tomorrow as the showers clear,  However, the thing that gets me, is that cicadas are the sound of summer not spring. Now, if I focus on that TOO much, it’s enough to make me weep.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. October 27, 2007 11:04 pm

    We used to have names for all the cicadas when we were kids – Floury Miller, Black Knight, Golden Croaker and the ubiquitous Green Grocer.

    This does seem rather early in the season for them, but I do recall hearing them in late October before. Maybe not up there in the mountains though, where the temps are usually a good 8-10 degrees cooler…

  2. October 28, 2007 6:01 am

    The ones we’ve been getting in Blackheath this year are masked devils …. and they’re everywhere! One of the kids at school bought in 340 shells for news.

  3. October 28, 2007 10:44 pm

    Anaglyph: The first ones started in late September. It was very odd to hear them that early. Cicada names – yes. The Black Prince was a prized find. I remember that too.

    It was so loud yesterday in the garden that C and I were shouting at each to talk over the cicadas. We went inside. Outside it’s like the opening of “Lantana’, except it goes on for hours rather than minutes. I’m starting to feel like I’ve got Ray Lawrence following me around with soundtrack directions!

    Lis: 340 shells collected….who says kids don’t play outside?

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