Before this summer, I had never heard the word cicada. It seems to be an Illinois thing. Cicadas are these nasty insects that come out every 17 years. They come out of the ground, attach themselves to trees, find mates, and die. Their young fall down from the trees and bury themselves into the ground to finish gestating for sixteen more years. Then, the cycle repeats itself.
This particular cicada flew up my skirt (and out it) when I examined another cicada lying on the ground. A few bits of hysterics later, this kind gentleman picked up the cicada so I could photograph the offender. Look at how big it is! Yuck!
1 comment:
it was trying to mate with you.
Post a Comment