It’s a hot summer day in the Carolinas, but it’s noisy as midnight at the electro-techno club. Male cicadas are playing that “I’m looking for love” song (if you can call it a song), loud enough to damage the human ear. The females of the species stay quiet, judging their suitors. These are not the famous 17-year cicadas, this is an annual species, reliable as blackberries in a vacant lot, or summer thunderstorms, or fried chicken at a church social. The single male sounding out down in the gulley is challenged by another up the hill, and a third, across the dirt road, chimes in for a three part harmony. Wait. Harmony? Not hardly. A six year old with a tin full of marbles is more musical… ~K