I’m starting a new series of posts about Everyday Gifts from the Universe. I think we all need to smile and feel joy in our lives amid so much pain and chaos. Here’s my first entry:
For the past two months I’ve been hearing the loud chirring of cicadas, coming from the many trees and bushes I pass as I walk my dog. I hear but cannot see them. Some of you may remember my post in June of 2021 where I describe how much I love the 17-year cicadas which invaded the Ohio River valley that summer.
I was curious about their cousins, the yearly cicadas here in Southeast Texas. So every time I heard their serenade I answered with my request. “I want to see you. At least once before you’re gone.” Since I believe that you DO get what you ask for, that the Universe or God or your personal energy will comply, I should not have been surprised this morning when a single bug-eyed Texas Cicada dropped by to visit me.
I was outside working on some potted plants with my dog, Little Girl, panting in the sun beside me. When I finished and started to go in I noticed a dark silhouette on the other side of the sunshade. I did a double take. And immediately knew it was a cicada. I went to the other side and there he was. He had alit on the shade and was waiting for me. He was not singing or moving. I studied him. His colors were different than his Ohio cousins’. He did not have their big red eyes, but they were bug-eyes non-the-less. He was painted with a handsome jacket of olive green and deep blue-black. His gauzy wings were spun from dark coppery threads. I thought he might be dead. So I shook the shade. He stayed put. Of course, I took photos of him before I touched his wing and he flew away, but not far. He landed in my hibiscus bush. So I squatted down and studied him some more. I told him thanks for showing up and I wished him well before me and LG went back inside where there was no 96ꟴ sun beating down on us.
To end this post, I encourage each of you to take time to bask in the little things that bring a smile to your face and a sense of wonder. And do not hesitate to ask for these everyday gifts and be ready to recognize them whenever and wherever they manifest.
ADENDUM: I hate to spoil the mood of this post, but I feel I owe it to my readers to be honest. My Texas Cicada met a gruesome end. Yesterday afternoon, not long after I wrote the above, I went out back to get Little Girl inside. I noticed she was playing with something on the ground but as I approached to see what it was that enthralled her, she grabbed her prize and ran out of my reach. She kept this up every time I made a move. I tried the usual hollering at her. “Stop.” “Drop it.” “Stay” and of course “Come.” LG ignored all my commands. The last time she let the bug out of her trap, I noticed he was barely moving and one of his wings was askew. I made a lunge trying to rescue him but I wasn’t fast enough. LG took him up once again and this time she began crunching the poor bug in her jaws. I felt sick but still managed to record the event with my iPhone. I watched with disgust as she chomped away and swallowed my little Texas Bug Buddy. I couldn’t save him. In truth I had no desire to reach inside my dog’s mouth and retrieve the remains of the cicada. It was just too gross.
At least I know the bug isn’t poison to dogs or humans. (I had a previous dog who ate every cicada he could get his mouth on the summer of 2004.) And as many of you may recall that during the Cicada invasions in Cincinnati of 2021, there was a trend of young people, (today they’d be on TikTok) actually having Cicada parties and serving deep fried Cicadas as appetizers. I have a nephew who hosted such a party and claims to have eaten many fried cicadas. And neither dog nor human has perished as a result of their culinary choices, as far as I know.
One last thing. After swallowing her much coveted delicacy, LG made a beeline for her water bowl and began drinking her stale hot water as fast as her little tongue could slop it into her mouth. She stopped took a breath and dived back in for more. Me thinks she didn’t really enjoy the aftertaste of raw Texas Cicada.
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