the dog-days have brought guests...

my living room windows are always open these warm-weather months, and there's a tree right outside. beginning in the late afternoon and continuing into the evening, the sound of the cicadas is overwhelming. it's so loud that i can't talk on the phone in my living room -- i have to go into my bedroom where the windows stay closed because i have a window unit air conditioner. it's really quite amazing.

the other day, while walking down the street, i saw a cicada skin stuck to a tree, evidence of the bug's molting process. when i was little, my brother and cousin and i would collect these hollow shells from the trees in my grandmother's yard and hold them in our small outstretched hands in an attempt to freak out our aunts. we were amazed by them, they seemed so miraculous and unlikely. except for a small slit in the top of the shell, they are delicate, perfect representations of the bugs that left them behind. even the legs retain every detail, every joint.

i had honestly forgotten about cicadas until this summer. i can't possibly ignore them now. maybe i haven't given them any thought in years past because for the prior six summers i've lived in city neighborhoods, away from enough of a concentration of trees and gardens and flowers and grass to attract a population of these noisy bugs. or maybe cicadas don't make it as far north as boston or as far east as philadelphia.

and these are just the annual, "dog-day" cicadas! i can only imagine how loud the summer afternoons must be when the 17- or 13-year cicadas are in town.

they will be gone soon, their mating season ends with august. my summer, too, ends with august. in two weeks classes will start again and i will re-enter the insulated world of school. in the meantime i think i'll do what i can to enjoy the outdoors, to leave my friendly mark on unsuspecting places, to make noises to be heard through open windows.