Seasons Change – Conversations with Stella

I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. The cicadas are dying. Here. And here.

Me:        I know. You need not pile them at my feet.

Stella:    But they are dying, Lady Human! Why?

Me:        It is the end of their season. They have done their job.

Stella:    But they only hatched out a few weeks ago. They waited in the ground for 17 years and only stayed a few weeks? I don’t understand.

Me:        They hatched. They sang in the trees. They mated. They laid their eggs.  And 17 summers from now…

Stella:    …the eggs they just laid will hatch and the babies will do it all over again. How sad.

Me:        Or how comforting. It’s a great cycle. The locusts…sorry, cicadas that hatch next year will be the ones that were laid as eggs 16 years ago this summer and so on and so on. A continuous chain that keeps looping back.

Stella:    Why now?

Me:        Summer is ending.

Stella:    The trees are silent.

Me:        Seasons change.

Stella:    I don’t like change.

Me:        Neither do I.

Stella:    I’ll miss them.

Me:        They’ll be back.

Stella:    Sure as summer.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2017 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

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