Feeling Sorry for Cicadas
They are funny critters, singing and mating and getting stuck on windshield wipers, where one got a free ride for a few minutes yesterday as I drove home from the Reston trails.
The hum they make sounds like a commotion in the next county, like something big is going on somewhere else, which indeed it is.
But as I dodged their exoskeleton carcasses yesterday on my walk, my amazement at their presence was tempered with pity for their plight. What a life .... 17 years of nothing followed by three weeks of way too much. Theirs is not a path of moderation.
On the other hand, who am I to judge a bug? My life may seem just as strange to them.
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