Let’s just say I’ve had two too many close encounters with cicadas this week.

First, on Wednesday, I was just walking through my yard, minding my own business, when something fell to the ground with a thump right in front of me. Looking down, I half expected to see a smoking alien spacecraft. But instead I saw a giant, very dead, cicada lying on its black and white back. And then my little brother picked it up by its wing and declared that it was a lot heavier than the one he found the other day.

The next encounter happened today. Again, I was just walking around in my backyard near one of our lilac bushes, when I thought I saw a dark hummingbird hovering in front of me. It flew into the bush, and I waited for it to come out. I was eating a mango-flavored sucker at the time, and, thinking the hummingbird might be attracted to it, I held it out to see what would happen. But nothing happened, and I started to feel dumb. And then, to add to my disappointment, I realized that the “hummingbird” was really a cicada. And he was just sitting on one of the lilac leaves, probably laughing his strange-looking head off at me.


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