One part of late summer I like is to hear is the cicadas chirring (I love that verb) away in the treetops. We also call them locusts or jarflies. At any rate, aren't they cute, little critters (the photo is linked from the Wikipedia article)?

With those red eyes and cellophane wings, they look almost surreal, like a weird creature plucked from a science fiction film. As far as I know, they don't bite. I've never had one attack or buzz me. On the other hand, we're not exactly pals either.

Every so many summers, the cicadas hit in multitudinous numbers, and you find them everywhere. Flying in the air, they end up tangled in your hair, or splattered on your windshield. I haven't seen them in plague-like numbers, although I suppose in the time of global warming, that could well happen. Any time I hear the cicadas singing away, I remember growing up in rural Virginia. Those are good, powerful memories, too.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)