Paul rescued a cicada from a lily pad out in the pond tonight. We've found a few around here lately, ones that apparently have an annual cycle, instead of the more notable 17-year cycle.
The last time we saw the 17-year kind, Paul was four. For weeks they covered the trees, crunched under your feet whenever you walked, and made a terrific racket as they called out mating greetings. There seemed to be thousands of them and Paul loved them, talking to them, naming them, and encouraging them to crawl up his arm. It was a sad day when they all disappeared into the ground.
The appearance of these annual cicadas has reminded him that the 17-year ones will be back again in only ten more years! He can't wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I'd love to hear from you!