Giving Up Is Not An Option

   Early this morning, I headed to the little Frog Pond to see if our resident watersnake had returned.  Since I could not find her, my thoughts turned to other things...frogs!  The green treefrogs and American toads were singing their beautiful songs last night so the pond was full!  One, in particular, caught my eye as it was far up on one of the grasses.  That was big for a green treefrog!  I admired it for a bit before ambling back to the porch.  As I went passed the storeroom, another critter caught my eye.  A cicada was struggling to keep ahold of the siding as it morphed from its underground phase to its full adult stage.  The poor thing had half pushed its way out of its shed and was dangling precariously backwards!  Its grip on the siding had failed.  The poor thing was not able to right itself from this awkward angle causing it to not be able to finish its job of pulling from the old exoskeleton.  It was stuck.  While this situation was bad enough for the critter, I knew if it fell, things would be drastically worse.  A cicada has to hang vertically for its wings to form and dry. 

  Just as I was pondering whether I should go against Son's advice of never interfering with nature, the poor cicada dropped to the ground.  Oh, geez!  It had fallen right near an ant nest!  Poor little fellow!  Without thinking about that sage advice, I put my hand down next to the critter and allowed it to cling to me.  Now what??  It was time to find a safe place for our friendly critter.  Ahh, yes!  The small, potted quince tree would have to suffice as a temporary "hospital" for the bug.

  The little guy seemed well pleased with its new location and clung to the bark like a boss!  I kept watch on the progress and offered the occasional "moral support" that was needed to finish the process of molting.  It was an amazing experience to watch as the wings unfurled and then were inflated (yes, they inflate) then harden.  This took about an hour. During the hardening, I was a tad worried about its right wing but, in the end, the wing was normal. The adult cicada was gorgeous! Soon, it was able to take flight!  I look forward to hearing its call (or rather the calls of hundreds in the treetops).  I guess I will just have to take it that one of those calls is from the rescued critter.

Beautiful Music!

   After spending the morning in the kitchen making plum jam and the afternoon in the laundry room painting the trim work, I figured it was about time to make my escape from the confines of the Little Bayou House.  While I love my little house, I also love the freedom to roam the Bayou.  So, out I went, camera in hand and a need to feel the breeze on my face.  

  My hike did not get too far before I heard a weird "buzzing" or "rattling" sound.  The noise was quite loud.  It stopped me in my tracks.  What was that?  I slowly searched the ground which was rather difficult since I was on a mulched pathway in dappled light.  Ok, so something was in distress here and I could not find it.  Stop, listen...find.  Sure enough, I found.  A hapless cicada had fallen on the pathway and its wings were buzzing against the dry mulch.  The sound echoed making it much louder than I would have expected.  Reaching down, I scooped up the critter and attempted to put it on the arbor frame.  The cicada struggled to stay put.  Kerplop!  Down it went again.  Ok, so perhaps something was amiss with my friend.  Time to check the welfare of this fine creature.

  Sure enough, a fine silken web was wrapped around one wing.  Poor critter!  Bug in hand, I carefully removed the spiderweb from the wing and legs.  The cicada sat calmly in my hand while I worked.  Once it was clear, I held it back against the arbor and the creature climbed carefully up for a few inches before resting.  Goodness, it felt good to help!  This evening, the cicadas are calling loudly and I cannot help but smile thinking that one is surely my friend.  What beautiful music that is to hear!

Sparing A Life

  It seems to be a buggy type of season around here.  Of course, I am probably uncovering a lot of insects that would prefer to stay "unseen" since I am doing a complete makeover of the old Rose Garden.  The fence posts and arbors all had to be pulled out due to termites so there was nothing to do except start again from scratch.  Yesterday saw me pulling out dozens of what I was told was "Seven Sisters Roses".  This is one of the nicest names the bush can have.  I have a nephew who insists that they should be called "Devil Bushes" because "they reach out and grab you with the thorns".  They do, indeed, but I refuse to call them that!  (Ok, so maybe the thought crossed my mind a few times as I was cutting, digging, yanking and otherwise destroying the rose garden.  Taking down things is a lot harder that putting them up when they are covered with thorny bushes!

  As I pulled one of the roses from the ground, a wiggly something or another caught my eye.  Ok...the work was put on hold as I had to examine this wiggler.  This was not an earthworm nor a grub worm.  Time to grab the camera and fish that little thing out of the dirt.  Once the critter was in the palm of my hand, I realized that this was the nymph of a cicada.  Well, it is about time for the critters to start making their appearance and fill the night with their loud calls.  The cicada nymph was not entirely happy with being in my hand so I tried to think of the safest place for it since I would be digging near where I found it.  Since these nymphs suck the juices from plant roots, I decided that the best place for my new-found friend would be in the daylily bed.  (Yes, I know the lilies may not be overly happy with this decision.)  This bed has a lot of dollar grass and other weeds since I have not been diligent about weeding it lately.  Perhaps my critter friend will return the favor of its relocation by eating only the weed roots!  (Please, Cicada??)  

  As I was giving my critter friend a helping hand, I got to thinking of how I am probably one of only a handful of people that actually like these critters.   I hear so many negative remarks about the nymphs diet habits, the molts/sheds left behind and the loud buzzing that it is obvious that the bugs are not a favorite of a lot of folks. So what if a few roots are eaten?  And the molts are pretty interesting things to show kids (or scare them) and does anyone else love to sit outside at night and listen to them?   I am good with all three.  The critters have a right to live, too, and hopefully, this one will do ok being moved.

The Biggest One I Have Ever Seen!

  Early this morning found me stalking a Great Golden Digger Wasp.  I had seen the hole next to the front door but could not find my wasp.  I love these wasps!  Yeah, that is a pretty strange thing to say about something that could sting you but these are solitary wasps that are hesitant to sting.  Unless you grab hold to one, it would be extremely rare to be stung.  They just go about their business digging holes, laying eggs and stuffing the hole full of bugs.  That is another reason to love the wasps!  They clear the garden of a lot of caterpillars, stinkbugs and other insects.  Like I said, I was out stalking the wasp but got sidetracked along the way.


  About twenty feet ahead of me, I saw something moving on the ground.  Well, with the old eyes getting weak and a slight, drizzly rain coming down, I was not positive what I was seeing.  I actually thought a mouse was scurrying about the leaves.  Quietly slipping over to where a better view could be had, I came to realize that my "mouse" was not a mouse.  A cicada was struggling to take flight with its newly formed wings.  Ok, so a little help was needed.  The cicada readily climbed up on my extended hand and waited to be lifted high in the air.  My goodness!  That thing was the size of my palm!  It filled the palm of my hand with its beauty!  Never in my life, have I seen one this large!  It was a good three inches in length from the tip of its nose to the ends of its wings.and was such a fat bugger!  I had no idea what type of cicada it is but was told it was called a Giant Oak Cicada.  Maybe?  It was huge!  It is flying free as it took flight and flew to the top of a nearby oak.  It can now live out its life being a happy cicada.

  It was strange that this cicada was found on the ground instead of on the trunk of a tree.  Usually, when the critter digs its way out of the ground, it immediately hunts for some place to hang above ground.  There, it wiggles its way out of its old skin (molts) and hangs to let its wings unfold and dry.  Sometimes, the cicada will climb even higher in the tree to give it a better place to try out those wings.  It is a bit wobbly, at first, but then gains strength and can fly high into the trees just in time to begin singing for a mate.  My cicada never made it up that tree to start or something knocked it to the ground where it was struggling.  It just needed a helping hand...my hand.  Now, I can listen to its music as the sky darkens. 

"Dog Days" (Cicadas) of Summer

  It does not take long for me to become interested in something when on my hikes about the hillside.  Let it be a snake slithering under the woodpile, a mass of blooms on the morning glories or some bug creepy-crawling up the porch rail.  In fact, it was all three this morning.  The slender ribbon snake that was in the frog pond a few days ago made a hasty retreat beneath the woodpile just beyond the garden and the volunteer morning glories were outrageously gorgeous this morning after a rainy night.  Still, it was that bug on the porch rail that riveted my attention. 

  Actually, Mark found our critter while I was moving the porch chairs.  A cicada had just crawled from its nymph stage into adulthood.  The critter was still "drying" its wings so was literally at our disposal for a photo opportunity.  Since a cicada at this stage cannot do a whole lot of anything other than sit, it was easy to even get super closeups of its face.  A cicada face always intrigues me due to the weird mouthpart and the fact that they have five eyes.  The mouthpart is not used for much since adults rarely eat as they are too focused on finding a mate and three of those eyes are merely used to distinguish light and dark.  Not many creatures can tout having either of those fine attributes. 

  As near as I can tell, this is a Dog Day Cicada.  (Yep, that is a real thing.)  I find it rather hard to positively identify these critters while they are not fully transformed into an adult.  The colors appear different but, in this case, most of the markings point to a Dog Day Cicada.  This cicada has a call that is almost deafening and sound a good bit like someone using a table saw.  It calls both day and night and when there are hundreds, it is a sound you will never forget.  It is said that our Dog Day Cicada prefers pine trees which makes a lot of sense when you consider we have a lot of those about the place.  This type lays its eggs in the treetops and once the eggs hatch, the larvae drop to the ground and burrow.  They live underground for the next three years or so before crawling out, molting and starting the cycle anew.

Let the Symphony Begin!

  The Great Roar is upon us, here on the Bayou.  The almost deafening cacophony begins at dusk and carries on through the night.  For those not familiar with this noise, it can be a bit unnerving but to old-timers, we understand it is an annual occurrence around here.  Instead of complaining, we take it in stride and pull up a rocking chair to enjoy the "music".  I am referring to the annual emergence of the cicadas.  Their loud, buzzing sound tells us that the event is underway and for the next few weeks, it will continue.  The cicadas that live most of their lives underground as nymphs have started digging their way to the surface and morphing into the winged creatures that look frightening, sound deafening and drive a lot of folks nigh to madness each summer.  Me?  I like hearing them.  The critters have been part of my life as long as I can remember so what is not to love?  They do not bite (other than an occasional nip), do not sting and do not transmit disease.  They just come out, sing, fly around hunting for a mate then eventually die.

  A cicada is a funny looking insect that has five eyes (two large and three tiny), short. fat body and iridescent, heavily-veined wings.  The female will lay her eggs in slits in tree branches and after a few weeks the little ones hatch.  They crawl down the tree to the ground where they quickly burrow. Spending the bulk of their lives underground as nymphs, they rely on a change in tree roots to know when to surface.  Once they come out of their underground "city", they morph into winged creatures and the males begin to sing.  The raspy, buzzing songs can bring thousands of adult cicadas together...both male and female.  The males come to sing to the females and the females come to find a suitable mate.  

  Like I said earlier, I am not one that despises these critters.  In fact, I usually throw open the windows to listen to their songs.  These, the crickets and frogs join together in a sublime harmony. There is nothing quite like the peace and quiet of the Bayou...hmmm.....right.  With some ten thousand or so critters all singing, it is hardly quiet but, in all truthfulness, I still find it peaceful!

I think they like it here

  Last year was the first time that I had ever seen one.  Without the positive identity from my cousin, Fred, I would have never known that this was even a different species than what is normally found around here.  Beameria venosa....or teeny, tiny cicada is the critter in question and come to find out, it is something that few folks see. We are accustomed to seeing the rather large cicadas.  The type we have on the Bayou can reach to nigh on three inches in length but this little guy is no where near that size.  It is not much bigger than the head of a nail!

  Now that I have seen one of the critters, I cannot seem to escape from them!  The little guys seem to love the greenhouse and during the summer months can often be seen clinging to the boards.  After they molt, their little cast off skins stay stuck to the boards like some weird Halloween decorations.  That cast off skin actually has a name.  Exuvia is hard to spell and even harder for me to pronounce so I will just keep calling them cicada sheds.  Lots easier.

  The little cicadas, along with the huge ones, have been crawling out from underground for the past few weeks.  The critters crawl to a vertical place to molt, then hang there for hours as their bodies harden. Once that is complete, they take flight to the nearest tree and at nightfall, start their buzzing songs.  Add their nightly din to the cacaphony that rises from the Frog Pond and it can be quite deafening on the Bayou.  I sure would not trade my open windows for all of the fancy, sealed up houses of other folks.  It would sadden me to be unable to hear my critter friends as they fill the air with their songs.  Mother Nature is beautiful!

The Teeny Tiny Cicada!

  While most cicadas that I encounter here on the Bayou are quite large, I came across one yesterday morning that was the tiniest thing that I have ever seen!  It is adorable! I oohed and ahhed over the little guy for a bit and tried my best to gather interest from anyone who would listen.  No one was even remotely amused.  It seems that everyone is far too busy to marvel over a bug.  Not me.  I marveled.

  After staring at the little squirt for a bit, I left it where it was and headed down to cut a new path in the woods.  While I worked, I pondered the cicada and its size.  When I finally finished, I checked on my new-found friend.  The critter was still hanging on the same post near the Frog Pond.  So far, the little thing was safe!  

I hung a shed of a cicada that we normally find on the Bayou next to the shed of the newcomer for size comparison.

  Now I am wondering if this is a different species of cicada than is usually found here or am I just not seeing these little guys because of their diminutive size.  Perhaps a new breed is making the Bayou home! That would be exciting!  I did a bit of research and the closest thing I can find is a tiny cicada called Beameria venosa.  Being under an inch in length, this cicada is the smallest in North America!  And just think....I found one!  Maybe.  Since I am not an entomologist, I am just guessing at the identity.  The size sure fits the description, though!  But, rest assured, I am asking for help with the identity of my little cicada. My cousin is an endless source of knowledge so I sent the picture to him. Hopefully, he will be able to shed a little light on my bug!  I will let you know!  

****I love prompt answers!   My cousin seems to think that this is the cicada that I mentioned earlier.  I feel quite smug with myself for researching and possibly making a correct identity!  If you have the time, hop on over to visit his blog.  I am sure you will not be disappointed.  It is a good read and Fred is an amazing photographer!  
http://www.fragmentsfromfloyd.com/

The Defiant One

  In nature, it is usually the norm for critters to stand up against foes no matter what the size difference.  The smallest of mice will rear up against a much larger coyote and attempt a defensive action when cornered.  This is only after the escape route has been blocked and there is no other choice.  Still, the small ones show a heap of bravery when confronted. 

  This afternoon, Son brought me a Mason jar.  The top was covered with a scrap of paper and topped tightly with his hand.  Hmmm, I pondered if I really wanted to see what was in that jar.  Since I was standing in the kitchen and this was most likely some critter, I told him to tote that thing right on back outside!  I followed him out the door to see what fine gift he was giving.  While we were walking, he told me that Ms. Nycto, the new cat, had cornered a cicada and was nigh on injuring it beyond its realm of health. He had rescued the poor bug and thought maybe I would like to photograph it before he released it.  Aww, how nice of him!  I sure would! We toted the critter out to the jasmine arbor and let it out of the bottle.  The critter happily crawled onto the post and, I can only imagine, breathed a sigh of relief.  After a few pictures, my attention turned to a new critter. Under the jasmine, a rather large Eastern Lubber Grasshopper made a clicking sound.  Uh, oh.  I knew that sound!  This unsavory character was calling for a mate.  Soon the garden would be eaten by every grasshopper that came to investigate the call.   

  I grabbed  a stick to rake the critter out from the far corner of the vines. That rascal decided that it was not going to be accosted by my weapon of choice.  I tried again.  This time I succeeded in flipping the critter over near the fence where I would be able to make quick work of it.  That would end the cycle of life of any future menacing grasshoppers.  These guys will eat every green thing that is available given the chance.  My task was not as easy as I thought it would be.  The critter decided to become quite defiant!  It flared out its wings showing the bright red underwings.  These are meant to appearing threatening to any enemies.  It is a warning that the critter can and will fight.  They can emit a foul-smelling and slightly toxic, foul-tasting foam.  Instead of backing down to its warning, I decided to continue the photography session.  Ahh!  Great photos!

  The two bugs were both interesting in different ways.  Also, different was my choice of their worth in the garden.  I have never had a problem with the cicadas but those grasshoppers are pain!  One lived...one died. Choices are sometimes difficult.  

The Struggle

  There comes a time in life where you learn to appreciate every minute. The good times, the bad times...all are there for a reason.  It just makes more sense to "keep on keeping on".  Years ago, I was given a bit of bad news about my health.  I could have easily said "This is it.  I might as well quit." but I couldn't.  I had three small children that needed a mom and I was not about to let them down just because I gave up to the circumstances.  I pushed and with the help of God, family and friends, I beat the odds.  This makes one wonder.  If we all tried just a bit harder and stopped bemoaning our predicament, would life be better?  Yep, it would. Look around you and I guarantee you will find others in far more dire state of affairs.  Be happy with what you have and give it your best shot.

  All of this pondering was brought about by a chance meeting of a bug. Yep, a bug.  I was out this evening and noticed that Nycto, the wannabe Bayou Cat, was mesmerized by some unseen object.  This called for a closer look after the last such episode.  (That poor lizard will never be the same!)  What I found was a cicada.  The goofy cat's stare was transfixed on a bug!  She was intent just to stare, thankfully, as it could have meant a grim situation for the insect had she taken a different approach.  Still, I could tell that the critter was having a bit of difficulty.  It would try to climb up a limb of the dill weed only to fall to the ground.  Poor critter. I reached down to give it a helping hand. (Am I the only person that tries to help hapless bugs?)  It was then that I noticed the poor critter's wing was deformed.  One wing had not developed properly making it nigh on impossible for it to ever function correctly.  Did that stop the cicada from trying?  Nope.  It just kept on attempting that climb.  Holding that bug and looking into its five beady eyes made me realize that it had spunk!  The bug was bound and determined to climb to great heights and make that attempt at flight. Well, perhaps I could give it at least that bit of help. Instead of it struggling to continue, I placed it high in the grape arbor. There it would be safe from predators (and Nycto's curiosity) and at least feel it had achieved part of its goal.  Once on the highest plank of the arbor, the critter settled in for the evening.

  I am not sure if what I did helped that cicada in the least but I felt better for having tried.  Tonight, as I sit next to the open window, I can hear a cicada's loud buzz coming from the general direction of the arbor.  Is that the one that was struggling so earlier?  Who knows?  Who cares?  We have the lesson already.  Never give up.  Never cease trying.  Give it your all and feel good about it.  Be steadfast.  Keep on keeping on...as the song says.