As the Rain drowns out the song of the Cicadas
Ah, rain. For a moment, the sound of the cicadas is drowned out.
If you live in Illinois, you've had it up to here with Cicada News. Outside of the state, you may not be able to imagine the horror: hundreds of discarded shells stuck to tree trunks and fences, mysterious pencil-sized holes in the earth where the newly hatched cicadas climbed out from tunnel to land, the red eyes and the large fibrous wings. And the dog crunching on them. One of the few things that will accelerate her from a very slooow mosey to a rocking-horse kind of canter is the sight of a cicada waiting to be snatched up. Full of protein, I'm sure, and if I was starving, I would eat one or two. I could link you to a picture, but if you really want to see one, I'm betting that there's something on YouTube to ponder.
Dinner tonight: much better than cicada. Stir-fried watercress with garlic and olive oil, roasted beets with oranges, baguette spread with goat cheese, Tsing-tao beer.
If you live in Illinois, you've had it up to here with Cicada News. Outside of the state, you may not be able to imagine the horror: hundreds of discarded shells stuck to tree trunks and fences, mysterious pencil-sized holes in the earth where the newly hatched cicadas climbed out from tunnel to land, the red eyes and the large fibrous wings. And the dog crunching on them. One of the few things that will accelerate her from a very slooow mosey to a rocking-horse kind of canter is the sight of a cicada waiting to be snatched up. Full of protein, I'm sure, and if I was starving, I would eat one or two. I could link you to a picture, but if you really want to see one, I'm betting that there's something on YouTube to ponder.
Dinner tonight: much better than cicada. Stir-fried watercress with garlic and olive oil, roasted beets with oranges, baguette spread with goat cheese, Tsing-tao beer.
Comments
I think the rain may be heading our way by Sunday night. I hope so, the lawn is dry and the dust id awful.