Although cicadas are considered cuisine in some cultures, neither Luca nor I are interested in such an afternoon snack. Instead she bats a recently deceased one while I wander around looking for a living one. I mistook her catch for living, but then I noticed the black eyes. Alive they have beautiful green eyes. Maybe beautiful isn't the word many would choose, but I am fascinated by these creatures that live most of their lives underground in darkness and then suddenly get to grow wings and perch on the highest branches...
I find one ever so slowly crawling in the grass.
Another one newly emerged with bends in the tips of the wings like they are possibly still unfolding. Resting with wings stretched out, no mind about me pushing my camera lens into some serious personal space.
Pretty cool. They are much easier than trying to snap pictures of the bunnies that hop through.
No luck yet.