In parts of the United States and definitely in Northern Virginia, every seventeen years we get an invasion of the Pharoah cicadas. Their transformation from eggs to satanic creature takes seventeen years, and it happens all underground. Once they emerge from the depths of hell, they fly around spastically searching for something to eat and something to shag. Eventually they have little demonic babies. Well, actually they just lay more eggs so that in seventeen years, their off spring can emerge from the dirt and wreak havoc on the innocent once again.
It is very haunting to hear these little demons echoing through the woods. It sounds like a group of opera singers in unison warming up before a performance, or if you have a dark imagination, like a banshees calling for her next victim. They only stick around for about a month but their corps are left to rot in your yard or on your drive way, or on top of your mailbox. I am so over them. I can't go out without getting dinged by one and when one hits me they squeal with irritation as if I got in their way.
The first time I saw them, I was seventeen of course. I was listening to eighties hair band music like Van Halen or Motley Cru and sporting a jean jacket with lots of little buttons on them that said what I loved like "I love David Lee Roth" or "I love General Hospital." The second time I saw them, I was 34 and strolling my little Maxwell around the neighborhood trying to lose that baby fat that I put on by consuming pounds of artichoke dip and chips. And the third time, well it's now, and I am a fifty-two year old single mom of three boys trying to finally start that writing career that I've put on the back burner for years. I hope I am around in seventeen years time, making up for all my parental mistakes by being an awesome grandma of many little boys and little girls.
I posted a picture of some devil bugs in love. As you can see, they have no shame. "Get a room" is not in their little hissing vocabulary. I think in my next book, which I am now
plotting out, will start with, "it was the summer of the devil bugs..."
Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear from you with your devil bug experiences and what you were doing when the devil bugs emerged. Send me a note or comment...don't be shy!