I love the sound of the cicadas in New Hampshire. You know that whirring, buzz-saw sound you can hear on hot summer days? I always thought they only came every 17 years.
But apparently the kind we have come every year. (How did I not notice that? Well, actually, I thought they were just batches born in different years, so every year we had a new batch of 17-year-cicadas.)
The kind we have is called the "dog day cicada." How sweet is that? Here's a cool little story that was on New Hampshire Public Radio last year: http://www.nhpr.org/node/26369
But apparently the kind we have come every year. (How did I not notice that? Well, actually, I thought they were just batches born in different years, so every year we had a new batch of 17-year-cicadas.)
The kind we have is called the "dog day cicada." How sweet is that? Here's a cool little story that was on New Hampshire Public Radio last year: http://www.nhpr.org/node/26369
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