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But, this sound - the one I've been hearing every night for the past month ... This has been different. First of all, it is loud. I mean really, really loud. If it is cicadas, there must be hundreds, what am I talking about? Billions - even trillions of them. And the thing that's most striking is that it simply does not let up. These cicadas, if they are, in fact, cicada's - they just don't know how to let up like their New England counterparts.
"Take a powder!" I say. "For God's sake, please give us a break."
It's Research Time - Part of my pleasant Heather visitation week included more than a few long walks together around the neighborhood, topped off by several laps
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"Have you ever heard anything like it?" I'd laugh. "The thing is, it's probably coming to the end of their run now." The long hot summer (there were more than a few triple digit temperature days here during July-August) is winding down, although it's still pretty hot on some days, even midway through September. From all indications, the cicadas are reaching the end of their life-cycle. That theory has, in fact, been confirmed by the spotting of a few carcasses on the park pathway - they're growing in number each day.
The sounds and carcasses, coupled with my bug conversations - you know what? It was time for a Wikipedia visit. It was time to find out more than any person would want to know about - the marvelous cicada.
"Cicada-Mania" - What did we do before the web? I mean, it really is like having a public library at your fingertips, every second of the day. Did you know, for example. that there are over 2500 species of cicadas all over the world? And the sounds they produce (males only) are as plentiful as the number of different species. Also, did you know that the sound they create
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You know what? Now that I know why they're making the sound, the racket doesn't seem to bother me as much. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that there's been about an 80% drop off in soundage over the past few weeks. Still, if I were a cicada, I'd be rubbing my timbals pretty frantically to prevent my being swiped off a treetop and carried away, trapped in the grip of a strong beak. (By the way, that shot to the right and up - he's from Metuchen - for all my New Jersey friends).
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So now, whenever I'm walking around on a hot summer day, no matter where I am in the world and no matter what variety of cicada is doing it's thing, I'll have a idea about what's really going on up in those trees. And I'll be rooting for those guys in their quest to avoid their avian predators.
Here's to the cicada.
Come to think of it. It's too quiet around here these days.
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