Our first walk outside since the cicada invasion commenced. Cut to the chase: I lasted 29 seconds. Between my screaming and the deafening sound, JohnR agreed that I’m not ready to re-enter proper society at the moment and thus, will not be seeing anyone until mid June. They are everywhere — and the sound? Like a low-flying jet that never lands, just continues the high-pitched whining. I actually could manage the sound, but there are masses of these things, in various states of hatching, dying, mating, and flying everywhere.
I lived in the south for many years. People have a romantic notion about cicadas down there. This isn’t that.
Christine Anne Scott 