In Virginia, we saw cicadas every seventeen years. And when I say "saw", I mean that at the height of cicada season, every flat surface was covered with a cicada carcass. It was a big deal, too. I remember my first cicada year in 6th grade (though now that I think about it, it could have been 7th). We got them again when Diego and I were in Falls Church together. The newspaper did loads of stories about them - even going so far as to offer up cicada recipes.
Last week when Jeanette and Eric were visiting, Eric asked about the all-day-long droning noise that was too loud to be crickets. Turns out, cicadas come to Dallas (TX?) every year. We've been listening to them for over a month - like a distant neighbor running a power yard tool ALLLLLLLL day long. In the last two or three days, their carcases have started gracing the yard.
Saturday night, Diego found one and put it in a jar for Luis. Sunday morning, Luis was in awe of it. When I woke up he said to me, "Mommy - Daddy got me a special treat this morning. Come see; come see; come see. It was not chocolate milk, as I had suspected, but the cicada. You can't really see the cicada in the picture above, but you can see how Luis is holding it; how he held it for about 2 hours! While it's true that the cicada was alive when presented to Luis and not alive when Luis finally lost interest in it, to his credit, Luis did not squish or manhandle the little insect in any way.
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