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Mondo Culture Updated on 2024-02-01

Chapter 7: Cicadas

I thought, maybe most of us are not very familiar with the song of cicadas. They always inhabit places where olive trees grow. But there is such a fable that must be familiar to everyone. The cicada in the fable was mercilessly ridiculed by the ants. The story goes something like this:

All summer, the cicadas do nothing but sit on the branches and sing. Ants, on the other hand, have been busy storing food for the winter.

When the long winter came, the hungry cicada had no choice but to go to its neighbors to borrow some food, but it was closed.

The ant asked contemptuously, "Why don't you gather a little food in the summer?" ”

The cicada replied disapprerovingly, "I'm busy singing in the summer!" ”

You sing," replied the ant unceremoniously, "then you can go dancing now." As he spoke, he ignored the cicada's plea and closed the door coldly.

But the insects in this fable don't seem to be cicadas. Perhaps the protagonist of this story is actually the Mantis. In the UK, mantis is also often translated as cicada.

No farmer in my village would be so unfamiliar as to think that cicadas do exist in winter. Every cropper is familiar with the larvae of this insect. When autumn is getting stronger, they can always find cicada larvae in the soil dug up at the roots of the olive trees. They have also witnessed countless times as these larvae crawl out of their burrows in the ground, cling themselves to the trunks of trees, cracking the thin shells on their backs, shedding their old skin, and transforming into cicadas.

Every summer, cicadas always come to my house in flocks, perched in the shade of two tall trees, and rehearse their monotonous ensemble day and night. Their deafening rudeness is always noisy. I have many wonderful ideas that have been snuffed out in my mind by their endless noise before they have even taken shape. They are really hard to think about!

If the protagonist of this fable is really what we call the cicada, then we may be able to consider the story to be a rumor-monger. The cicada is not a beggar, although it is often open to the care of its neighbors. Sometimes, cicadas do deal with ants. But contrary to the fable, cicadas do not depend on others for their livelihood, and certainly do not come to the ant's door to beg for food in a low voice. Rather, the ants are often forced to come to the territory of the cicadas by hunger, begging for this busy singer. Didn't I say begging? Maybe the word isn't exact. In fact, the ants are cheeky and come forward to rob.

In July, insects are usually thirsty. They are always disappointed as they weave through the withered flowers, longing to find a cool drink to drink from the heat. At this time, the cicada is not as anxious and clueless as other insects, and it is lazily lying high on the trunk of the tree. Its magic weapon is the mouth. The mouth of the cicada is structurally shaped like a delicate straw. This awl-sharp straw is always tucked away in the chest. Once his mouth was dry, the singer pulled out his straw, pierced the bucket of drink in front of him, and drank until he had had his heart's content.

When the cicada pierces the tree's silky bark with its sharp beak, the sweet sap overflows. It is these drinks that bring unexpected trouble to the cicadas. Many thirsty insects in the vicinity discovered this fountain of cicadas, and soon surrounded the place, swarming up and licking the sap. In this bandit group, there are wasps, flies, rose bugs, and the most numerous are ants. The small thief always tries to sneak under his master. And the master was also generous, always lifting up slightly to make it easier for the thieves to hurry. The large insect quickly swept over the well, and when it saw that the owner did not resist, it revealed the true appearance of a robber, and turned back to try to occupy the well. The most ferocious of the bandits is none other than ants. I've seen these bad guys bite the cicada's legs, climb the cicada's back, and even bite the cicada's straw-like mouth in an attempt to drag it away!

In the end, the noisy singer had no choice but to abandon the well he had worked so hard to dig and fled in a hurry. The robber-like ants immediately began to enjoy this unrighteous food. A bunch of guys gobbled it up, and in a few moments, the well dried up. Then, these well-fed guys start to plan a new crime for the next drink.

You see, isn't the real fact the exact opposite of that parable? Ants are brazen beggars, but hard-working laborers are cicadas who love to sing!

I have the perfect environment to study the habits of cicadas. At the beginning of July, the cicadas took over the big tree in front of my house. So we became neighbors: I was the master of the house, and the heaven and earth outside the door were the absolute rulers. But its rule, no matter what, will not make people feel comfortable.

On the day of the summer solstice, I discovered the whereabouts of the cicadas for the first time. That day I noticed that there were many round holes in the crowded avenue. In the sunlight, these holes, which are just big enough to accommodate a finger, stand out. I looked closely, and suddenly I noticed that the larvae of the cicada slowly climbed up to the ground through these small round holes, retreated from their shells, and became real cicadas. These larvae have the power to dig through the sand and dirt that has been baked by the sun. As a result, they are happy to live in dry and sunny places. When I realized that the holes were the nests of the larvae, I took out my hand axe and began to dig down. Before the excavation, there was one thing that I was very concerned about. Around the circular hole of about an inch in diameter, there is not a single pile of dust to be found. In other digging insects, there will always be a pile of excavated dirt at the mouth of their nest. In fact, this is due to the different ways in which insects work. Excavation of scarabs, for example, begins with a hole in the ground. As a result, the waste it excavates is always piled up at the mouth of the hole. The cicada, on the other hand, has its larvae that slowly emerge from the ground. The final step in its long work was to dig a door to the ground. Therefore, since there is no such thing as a door in the first place, it is natural that waste does not accumulate in the opening that is used as a door.

Cicadas' tunnels are usually fifteen to sixteen inches deep. The tunnel is smooth and straight, with a closed bottom that is slightly wider than the upper part. There is a puzzling point in this small project: what about the excess soil accumulated during the excavation of the tunnel? Why don't the walls of the tunnel crack and break? Many people think that the cicada crawls on its clawed legs in such tunnels, but if this is the case, its legs will surely destroy the walls, cause collapses, and block the passage of its nest.

In fact, the actions of the cicadas are comparable to those of a miner or a railway engineer! Miners erect rows of load-bearing pillars in the tunnels, while railway engineers use brick walls to make them stronger. Cicadas have the same skill. You may find that cicadas always build their nests in areas with dense plant roots, and this is of course due to their careful consideration. When the cicadas build the walls of their nests, they use homemade cement. The sap used to make cement is taken from the liquid substance secreted by the plant's roots. It sucks the sap from the roots of the plant and then uses the sap to mix the soil into cement and spread evenly on the walls of the nest to strengthen the dwelling.

Cicadas are always ready to break ground. It's always thinking carefully about when the best time is. For them, the weather is a crucial factor. Therefore, serious cicadas are always looking for ways to get some information about the weather. Therefore, for the diligent cicada, being able to move freely up and down in their nest is a necessary condition for timely observation of the weather. It always takes a few weeks or even a month for the cicada to complete its ideal wall – strong, smooth, and crawlable. At the top of the tunnel, the cicada leaves a thin layer of soil that serves as the lid of the tunnel. This small lid can not only isolate the impact of external climate change on the tunnel, but also protect the life safety of cicadas. At the same time, it also serves as the only skylight in the residence, which is convenient for the cicadas to detect the weather conditions outside. If it is found here that it is a raging storm, the delicate larvae will obediently slide down and stay at the bottom of the nest honestly; As soon as the climate warms up, the excited larvae climb up and break through the thin skylight in one fell swoop to ascend to the wide world outside.

The little larvae are in no hurry to play around when they first come to the outside world. It often wanders around its nest, looking for a proper place to take off its shabby clothes. A dwarf tree, a clump of thyme, a leaf of weed, or even a withered branch are ideal for cicadas. When the cicada finds these suitable props, it lies on it and clings to the branch with its forefoot, not moving. At this time, the outer layer of its skin slowly cracks from the back, revealing a fresh pale green color - it is its brand new **. It slowly raised its head, and pulled out its straw-like mouth and forelegs from its old skin, and then its hind legs and wings, leaving only the tip of its tail still wrapped in the cicada's moult.

(Tips: The full text ** can be read by clicking on the card at the end of the article).

Then, the cicada began to perform strange gymnastics choreographed and directed. It first unfurls its thin new wings and soars into the air, then arches itself with all its might, so that its head is facing the ground; Then it stretched its body as fast as it could, while using its front paws to hook itself onto the skin it had shed. It repeats this action until it completely frees its tail from the cicada's moult. This work, it usually takes three hours or more.

The singer, who had just been reborn, couldn't move freely for a short time. Because it's just too weak. Until it has enough strength, the cicada will hang on its cicada molt, bask in the hot sun, and drift in the wind, until it has accumulated enough energy, and the tender green of its back has gradually turned into a shiny dark brown, and then it will spread its wings and fly into its new life like a well-prepared traveler.

Cicadas are so passionate about singing. There is a cavity behind its broad wings in which a cymbal-like instrument grows. But it was not satisfied with this, and in order to increase the intensity of the sound, a castanets were specially placed in the chest cavity! The cicada has indeed sacrificed a lot for the sake of the art it has pursued all her life: when this wide castanets occupy most of the space in the chest, the cicada's internal organs have nowhere to be placed, and can only be compressed into a remote corner of the body. In this way, for the sake of their beloved singing art, the cicada does not hesitate to compress its life organs to make room for its own musical instruments.

Unfortunately, the songs that cicadas dedicate their lives to singing bring only pain and irritability to others. I have no more appropriate reason than instinct to explain the true purpose of the cicada's singing. It is often assumed that cicadas sing are all about summoning companions. But countless facts have proved that this guess is completely wrong.

For fifteen years, I have lived next to the cicadas. Every summer they appear in the big tree in front of my window. During those two months of the year, the cicada always occupies my gaze and brings me its noisy song. I usually see them perched side by side on the thick trunks of trees. The bad singer and his partner just stayed there, sticking a straw under the bark and drinking motionlessly. As the sun sets, two small insects walk in tandem, slowly but steadily along the branches, looking for a warm and dry place to camp. Whether it's a meal or a walk, their singing never stops. So in this way, it seems that the cicada's song is really not to call out to its companions. Imagine if your companion were right next to you, you probably wouldn't spend an entire month calling out its name, would you?

My guess is that the cicadas may not be able to hear their own songs at all. Its rude singing voice may never be able to understand itself.

Cicadas have a super visual system that is far superior to ours. Its five eyes are clustered on its head, ready to tell it what is going on to the left and right and above it. As soon as he saw someone running towards him, the song stopped abruptly and flew high. But no matter how noisy it is, it is not enough to deter the resting cicadas. If we had stood next to a bird, even if we had made even the slightest noise, the bird would have fled in terror. But we often stand not far from the cicadas clapping, talking, whistling, and even hitting stones, while the cicadas stay there calmly and continue to sing.

On one occasion, I borrowed from the villagers the spears they usually used for wedding events, which were filled with gunpowder—so much gunpowder needed for even the most important occasions. I quietly placed the gun under the big tree so that the cicada couldn't see what we were doing behind it. With my spear in place, I cautiously ran back into the house and opened the window to prevent the glass from shattering. "Bang-" The spear made a loud noise, like the sky was cracking! But the cicadas were not affected in any way, and they still sang loudly. Then I fired a second shot. The shot was still thundering, but the cicadas, intoxicated by the singing, still showed no trace of panic or fear.

I think this experiment should prove to us that the cicada is actually purely deaf. Not only can it not perceive any sounds from the outside world, but it cannot even understand its own singing.

Cicadas usually prefer to lay their eggs on dry twigs. Its preferred spawning sites are generally no thicker than a pencil, and sometimes as thin as a wilted grass. Once these tiny, upturned branches are found, the cicadas lie down on them and use the sharp tools on their chests to make a row of small holes in them. Dexterous cicadas are usually able to make thirty or forty small holes in a moderately long dead branch. The cicada then lays its eggs in these tiny holes. The holes in these branches are narrow and sloping, and each hole can hold about ten eggs. Thus, the total number of eggs on a dead branch is about 300 to 400. In this way, a large family of cicadas has been formed. And there's a good reason why cicadas lay so many eggs here – they have to lay a lot of eggs to defend themselves against a particular danger. Some of these eggs will have to be sacrificed to ensure the survival and growth of the other part. After a long period of observation, I finally discovered the source of this danger – a very small insect called a gnat. Compared to the small gnats, the cicadas can be called behemoths! And it is these little guys who have created the eternal tragedy of the cicada family.

Gnats and cicadas have the same habit of laying their eggs on tiny, dead branches; Of course, they also have the same tools for piercing. But the way they use their tools is very different. The cicada pierces the dead branches with a sharp blade and lays eggs; The gnats pricked the cicada's freshly laid eggs with long needles hidden underneath their bodies! Of course, the huge cicada can squash all the shameless ** of their own children, but surprisingly, on the contrary, it just faces these hateful thieves with extraordinary calmness, and still produces without scruples.

The hapless cicada has just filled a small hole with eggs and moves towards the nursery higher up. At this time, the cheeky gnats followed, unafraid of the sharp long legs of the cicadas that approached at hand. Without fear, it punctures the cicada's eggs with needles hidden under its body, and lays its own eggs inside. When the poor cicada has worked hard to complete its work and take a break, it does not know that most of its holes have been occupied by others. The children of these robbers mature quickly, and it doesn't take long for the gnats that hatch into larvae to start killing the cicada eggs left in the holes, eventually destroying the cicada family.

Such tragedies have been unfolding for centuries. But the ignorant cicadas did not take any measures to curb these rampant behaviors. Maybe it's not that the cicada didn't fail to discover these heinous evil deeds, nor did it lack the courage to fight against the cruel **. Its forbearance seems to be to keep its race alive and not to perish in revenge for destroying eggs with gnats.

I once saw the whole process of hatching cicada eggs through a magnifying glass. At first, the larvae swimming in the eggs look like small fry. It has large, shiny black eyes and a pair of flaks that resemble fish fins. The fins, attached between the two front legs, seem to provide some momentum to help the larvae break out of their egg shells and climb through the holes to the surface of the branches.

The fish-like larvae climb up the branches and can't wait to start showing off their talents. It begins to shed its skin, and this skin does not fall off in its entirety. The clever little larva disassembles the shed skin into a long thread – like the safety rope used by acrobats in the circus. Bathed in daylight, the newborn larvae lean lazily on this rope and swing their falls. Sometimes, the mischievous larvae also hang in the air, stretching their slender tentacles, occasionally shaking their legs, and happily flipping in the breeze.

As they approach the ground, the larvae begin to become cautious. Of course, it's afraid of falling on hard ground! Slowly laying the rope, finally, it landed safely to the ground. At this time, its delicate body gradually hardened in the air. The moment it touched the ground, it seemed to indicate that this little insect was about to face the challenges of a harsh life from now on.

The first danger it will face is fatal. A little breeze can teach the little larvae the cruelty of fate. It only takes a little wind to lift it onto hard rocks or rutted water, or it can be exiled into barren land of yellow sand. In either case, it is a deadly threat to young cicadas. Now, the young man is desperate to find a suitable hiding place to avoid accidental injuries and to defend against the threat of climate change. As soon as the weather turns cold, death will befall them. As a result, the larvae, which had just landed, had to give up playing and immediately set out to find the soft soil. There is no doubt that many of their members died before they could find the right place.

The lucky ones who survived began to dig into the ground with their hooked forefeet as soon as they found a suitable spot. I held my magnifying glass and watched the larvae at work—they kept digging with their axe-like forefeet, throwing dirt at each side. In just a few minutes, the little insect can dig a safe shelter for itself, then burrow headlong into it and disappear forever.

How does it eat? And how does it grow? This underground life of the larvae is still an unsolved mystery to me. The only thing I know is that it spends a very long time underground before it grows into an adult — about four years! And when it returned to the ground, it sang in the daylight for only about five weeks.

Enduring darkness and silence for four years, in exchange for only a month of sunshine and pleasure. I don't think we should be disgusted with this persistent singer. Its singing voice seems to be a cry, and it is full of pompousness, but it is only because after too long of repression, it can finally have the light and enjoy life again. It's just a hymn of awe for hard-won fleeting pleasures in its own way, nothing more.

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