Driving with Cicadas

There was a lot of driving today, up to Hampton or Lovejoy and then to McDonough (pronounced Mik don a, you news heads from Atlanta). Later, I drove down to the jail/magistrate court in Forsyth. As I exited my vehicle, I noticed the eerie sound of cicadas in the trees. Afterward I discussed the advent of these noisy flying pests with Judge Davis and his clerk. I walked out of the justice center and climbed into my car. As I reached up to insert the key in the ignition, I noticed a cicada sitting on the cuff of my dress shirt, staring at me like I had trespassed on his domain. Instead of arguing his place in the world of Central Georgia, when these creatures lie dormant in the soil for thirteen years between appearances, I shook him off onto the floor. Later, when it started making his obnoxious noise, I smashed its fairly substantial body under a plastic jar I found on the floor. Afterward, I read that cicadas are delicacies in many parts of the world, particularly in Mediterrean regions such as Greece and Provence. I offered it to Cindy for her supper. She didn't take to the concept. I was puzzled by her refusal.