I was going to put this on pubski, but didn't want to gross anyone out.
EDIT:
Now with a sideview!
I partly grew up in New Mexico, and loved hearing the creation myths of the Hopi. The first people arrived in this world with the help of the cicada. It has given cicadas a special meaning to me.
Really? What a small world! The part of the creation myth about the cicada was when the first people wanted to reach the final world (our world). There are different versions of why they moved on, with some saying that their present world was becoming flooded. There were reeds that stretched all the way up to the next world, but none were able to reach the next world. Finally the cicada tried, climbed up the reed and managed to dig his way through the soil into the white world. Then the humans (and others) were able to come through as well. That was the short version. You can find the creation myth online. I think the reason they seemed magical to me is that we heard the tales orally, while visiting friends in the reservation. The tale was quite elaborate.
I don't mind the sound of cicadas, but I despise the nasty shells they leave behind. My favorite climbing tree as a kid was unusable for a few weeks after the molt because every favorite hand hold would have at least 2 or 3 of the crunchy little bastards on it.
The sound of cicadas is one of my favorite sounds of summer. They're these amazing little things that always seem to be off in the distance, where you can hear them at all hours, but never seem to spot any. More often than not, the only sign you'll ever come across that they're there, besides their sound, is the little husks they leave behind.
It was really neat to watch it emerging from the husk. The dog, though, has gotten quite good at spotting the little guys. Apparently they are delicious.More often than not, the only sign you'll ever come across that they're there, besides their sound, is the little husks they leave behind.