That ubiquitous microminiature chainsaw buzzing coming from trees and the ground in late summer is known by all, but often mistaken for frogs (frogs mating calls are in the spring.) The strange (to some people anyway, entymologists are a different breed) thing is, the cicadas that we know and er, love actually molt and leave their body shells behind, a perfect duplicate including legs, goggles, abdomen, the works. After tunneling out of the ground, they grab on to something they can dig their claws into, like our wooden mailbox post:
Then weasel and wrench themselves out of their exoskeletons, usually causing a slit to open down the back, like a fine evening dress, leaving it still clamped on to the mailbox post for eternity. Then it's Graduation Day!Today I am an adult! No more wimpy underclass nymph jokes for me! Ha, ha!
I say cicada, you say cicaeta, let's crush the thing with a big fat pataeta!