an infrequent repository of mostly new stuff
Seventeen Year Cicada, midway through transformation
A few days ago, the hatch of Magicicada Brood II began here in Virginia. These are the periodic cicadas on a 17 year cycle. It’s pretty amazing how many there are. They’re everywhere.
They’ve only started tuning up on their “singing” – in another week the noise will be deafening. Almost literally. At close range, a cicada can pump out 120 decibals. That’s enough to do permanent damage to your hearing.
The girls came home from their separate away homes for the weekend. Amanda brought Paul, and we all had a little birthday get together. Storms knocked out the power again Friday night, but we happily made do with grilling and eating by candlelight. When the power finally back on, we just turned out the lights and kept going.
Winter took one last swing at us, then skulked off into the woods. Friday evening was snow flurries and sleet. Saturday was almost 80 degrees. Took only three days for leaves to bust out on the trees.
Almost gone in a day.
View from the window
Four to six more inches Sunday night. Started mid-afternoon, this time, when we were out for some writer’s festival events in town. This time without the ice, though, so the power stayed on and the roads stayed clear. Most of the weak trees and branches weeded out last time, I suppose. Just pretty.
It snowed and snowed and snowed.
The Local
Charlottesville is buzzing with book festival folks. Story telling at the gallery on Thursday, a pretty hoppin party there last night, literary types walking the streets.