I miss them already.
While not totally silenced, the roar of the 17-year cicadas has all but died away around my office.
I will miss them.
These big, ugly, harmless (and some say tasty) bugs reminded me of the wonders of nature. They crawl out of the ground as if on cue, roar and fly and mate and die in a few weeks, and their offspring will do the same, in 2024. The timeless rhythm and the deafening roar shouted the mystery of nature at its finest and noisiest. Farewell, small friends, I hope I will be here to greet your children!
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