Like you, I have been dealing with the cicada infestation that is every 17 years.
Watching them fly about reminds me of small Winnebago campers with wings,
They can fly, but it appears they only took minimal flight instruction and never completed the course.
Today it was my honor to play my bagpipe for a family, and as they went into church I played a piece of music.
All of a sudden out of nowhere they came- a lot of them.
I was dumbfounded! I guess that they were attracted to my music. (Loud noise must make them feel amorous.)
They landed on my bagpipe, walking around my kilt and some thought my back was a good place to land. I became the cicada’s bagpiper du jour.
Once again as everyone left the church, I played and again my new found fans rushed to be near me- scratch that, ON ME!
Finally at grave side as I played Amazing Grace I became aware of them landing on my back, my collar-walking on my neck and of course my bagpipe.
I slowly walked away taking my new best friends along for the ride.
Once home I rushed into a cold shower, finally I felt again like a member of the human race.
I still feel “buggy”, I guess for the summer every time I strike up the bagpipe its cicada lu au time.
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