And I can see their empty exoskeletons clinging to twigs and tree trunks, where the nymphs have hung themselves out to dry for a few hours after their emergence, then abandoned their shells for wings and the wide world--and sex. The male sings for his mate and dies. The mated female lays her eggs on a tree branch and dies. And the eggs hatch into nymphs, to the ground, and burrow deep, a foot or more, to sleep through dark, silent, song-less summers.
Uploaded: Mar 12, 2015