The Cicada

Et cantu querula rumpent arbusta cicada. Nil carborundum ilijitemi.

The searing heat is upon us. As soon as the sun rises then the Cicada start their screeching. My granddaughter came down from upstairs saying what ever is that screaming outside? I listened and realized that it was the Cicadas in the trees. I said that's Cicadas. Oh, she said what are they? So I told her that they were insects..Where do they come from and what do they do? Well, I replied, they are grubs in the ground for years then one day they come out of the ground, and climb a tree. That screaming noise is them calling to each other. Then they lay their eggs and die. She thought for a while, then said, is that all they do, be born, climb trees, scream at each other, then die! Why don't they get a life?

One man's headache is another man's music. But to others, their sonic singing was so highly regarded that the symbol of the Cicada can be seen in their art, sitting on the strings of the Cythera. High born Athenians wore golden ornaments in their hair and the coins of the Lorians carried its image. I would imagine that it was seen as some kind of sex symbol. With all that singing for a mate. They were even eaten, satisfying mind, body and spirit.

It's the males who are calling. The apparatus for producing such noise is a complicated arrangement of taught parchments, membranes, flaps, resonating cavities, projections, abdominal contractions and explanations, producing a seemingly endless rising and falling cantilena. This is found nowhere else in the kingdom of animals.

One can creep up on these noisy songsters but with three eyes they can spot us and quickly move to the other side of the branch to hide. They look a bit like huge horse flies and will readily take to the wing, often blundering through open car windows. They feed on the sap of the trees they occupy. After the wedding and honeymoon they reproduce themselves. The female cuts deeply into the host tree and lays five to eight eggs at a time, then the newly weds all fall down and die.

But the little ones are safe inside the branches where they hatch, descend below, burrow into the soil and feed on the sap of the roots and await another searing summer day to rise up again.

The Spanish Ibex

 I was looking out at the mountain the other day just staring into space when I heard rocks falling. I looked up and saw some goats just crossing the hillside, nothing unusual in that. It was then I realized that I could not hear the sound of bells tinkling. I looked again, they were all the same colour, brown and beige with white rumps, as I looked more, appeared as if from the hillside they were so well camouflaged. In all there were six. At first I thought them to be small deer, but soon realized they were Ibex because two of them had the large turned back horns. Wow. I froze and watched some more, as they had not seen me. They continued to cross the scarp, then turned to climb up, running, skipping, jumping and grazing. A couple of young ones were play fighting as they ascended. When they reached the top, they took it in turn to roll in a dusty depression to have a dust bath. Two of the biggest sharpened their horns on a rock. As magically as they appeared, they disappeared over the ridge.

       

My neighbour Ana phoned me to tell me that she was looking out of her stable door that leads into a small coral at the back of the house when suddenly one appeared running along the wall at the back and was grazing the leaves of an almond tree. Then to her delight a tiny one followed. She has managed to get some photos. When they left, they crossed the scarp and others speared from the rocks.

       

Since then they have been seen almost every day, in the mornings and once in the afternoon.

      

I have never seen them here before. Normally they live high up in the mountains and seldom go below the tree line, they are very shy and stick to the wilderness. Have they come in search of food? Well, yes, Ana's were eating her tree, also water, as it is very hot and dry being the height of summer and a drought. Could they be misplaced because of all the road building crossing great tracts of the countryside?

 They are a protected animal, but are taken sometimes for food and trophies! They have a reputation for being magical, and parts of them are used in folk medicine!. I hope the hunters leave them alone, they have been mistaken for Wild Boar and shot.