For the past two weeks, the yard has been littered with dozens of broken twigs with leaves still attached. As we have had some crazy cool summer storms blow through town lately, it was assumed that this was just residual storm damage.

The back story: In Missouri, we spent about three weeks in June listening to the deafening screech of the 13 year cicadas. They were very loud, drowning out the noise of a lawn mower at their worst. They smelled horrid as they decomposed, and they were crunchy ugly. But now, I get it, and I sort of admire their collective effort because it’s brilliant!

Looking closely at the end of the twig, you can see how the cicada gnawed the wood just enough to weaken the branch, so it will fall to the ground. See those tracks on the side of the twig? That’s where the cicada eggs are deposited. “Female cicadas literally saw Y-shaped slits in pencil-size branches of trees and shrubs and lay as many as 600 eggs, 20 to 25 in each incision, weakening and even killing the ends of branches.” (http://www.columbiatribune.com/news/2011/jun/05/the-cicadas-summertime-symphony-is-worth-enjoying) When the twig is sufficiently dried out or a strong enough wind comes along, the little branch falls to the ground, the eggs hatch and burrow into the ground where they will feed off of tree roots for the next 13 years or so. Is that not the most heroic effort to preserve a species?

Had we known, dear cicadas, we would have appreciated you more.