cicada

Summer Serenade: The Cicada Song

/ Kevin / 19 Comments

Courtesy of Reuters

Photo courtesy of Reuters.

Just a few months ago, there was a lot of noise about the emerging Brood II Cicadas, the one that emerges every 17 years.  I was thrilled with the news because I happen to love Cicadas — maybe not the insect, but the sound!  Yes, the sound — because nothing screams summer like the shrilly screech of Cicadas.

And then came the end of the news reports: Long Island was not included.  Apparently, this brood’s parents decided 17 years ago that Long Island was no place to spend their summer season.

This doesn’t mean that Long Island is suffering from Cicada silence.  We have our share of these noisy buggers — it’s just that, well — it’s like that old saying: Always a brood maid, never a brood.

In celebration of this beautiful noise, I’m revisiting a post that nicely summed up my cicada love.

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Repost: The Sounds of Summer

/ Kevin / 12 Comments

 I’m still in South Florida, waiting for my car to be fixed.  The mechanic informs me that the transfer casing needs to be replaced and there is only one brand new part in the entire country and GMC cannot locate it.  There is, fortunately, a used part in Orlando that has arrived and just needs to be installed.

My mind is worried about my New York garden and the clean-up that is waiting for me there.  Three weeks is an awfully long time to be away, and I’m sure that there is mowing and weeding and staking to be done.

And my heart and prayers are in Colorado.  It seems silly, doesn’t it?  To be worried about car repairs and gardening when there is so much pain and absolute sadness surrounding the tragedy in Aurora.  With each news update, I long for simpler times.  Innocent times.  Times  when evil didn’t walk into a movie theater — or a school or a mall or a military base . . . and the only sounds to be heard came from life.

It’s positively steamy outside. I’m watching the sprinkler water the zinnias on the far side of the pool, and completely drowning out the sound of running water is the non-stop, rapid-fire droning chirps of the Cicadas. Some might consider the sound a nuisance or torture, but I find the chirping can trigger memories and it sparks my imagination.

As a kid, we always incorrectly referred to these buzzers as locusts — but no matter what we called them, no sound reminds me more of the dog days of summer than the Cicada’s song. It’s like a sizzling sound effect, perfectly accentuating the sun’s rays scorching the garden. A never-ending sizzle, that forces me to stand as still as the hot, humid air. As one chorus whines to an end, another starts up, and so on and so on.

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Cicadas: The Sound Of Summer

/ Kevin / 7 Comments

It’s positively steamy outside.  I’m watching the sprinkler water the zinnias on the far side of the pool, and completely drowning out the sound of running water is the non-stop, rapid-fire droning chirps of the Cicadas.  Some might consider the sound a nuisance or torture, but I find the chirping can trigger memories and it sparks my imagination.

As a kid, we always incorrectly referred to these buzzers as locusts — but no matter what we called them, no sound reminds me more of the dog days of summer than the Cicada’s song.  It’s like a sizzling sound effect, perfectly accentuating the sun’s rays scorching the garden.  A never-ending sizzle, that forces me to stand as still as the hot, humid air.  As one chorus whines to an end, another starts up, and so on and so on.

Continue reading →