There's something I've developed into a fine art -- waiting. Not content to wait for literary agents to contact me, and not content to wait for literary journals to review my submissions, I'm waiting on the cicadas.
Sure they promised to come out by 22 May, and here it is two days later and no sign of them. A friend about four miles away found that his trees were covered yesterday, but no one else in his neighborhood has seen any. We put it down to the landscaping crew having been there the day before, vibrating the ground with their big mowers and startling the cicadas out of their holes a bit early.
I've got my camera charged up and the memory stick has plenty of bytes left. I'll be waiting again tonight to catch the little critters in action.
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