June 04, 2007
Thank God I Have a Treadmill!
You know that scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds,” where they’re trying to leave the school? And there are birds covering every inch of the playground equipment? And they’re totally still, but you just know that they’re watching? And waiting?
That’s what this morning was like.
We’re fortunate enough to live a half-mile from a lovely public park and nature preserve, so most mornings, I walk one or both dogs (depending on how much hassle I feel like dealing with) down to the park and around the pond. It’s really quite lovely and peaceful.
But the cicadas showed up in significant numbers for the first time in my neighborhood this week. Every tree over seventeen years old is covered with them. So much so that the disgusting creatures are starting to migrate to cars, fences, garden décor and even an old couch that someone left out for the garbage men. *shudder*
The last time the cicadas showed up, it was for Spikette’s wedding in June of 1990. She got married in a pretty, little chapel… in the forest. The time before that, I was just three years old. You wouldn’t think I’d remember anything about it, but I do. I remember them falling off the trees onto us. Gross gross GROSS.
The town I live in is one of the “Tree City U.S.A.” towns, meaning we have a certain number of trees per square mile or whatever. It’s a pretty town, but more trees means more cicadas, and that’s just not sitting well with me right now.
I know the cicadas can’t hurt me. Logically, I know this. And I like to think that my Wenchie persona is above such things as creepy-crawly-bug-fear.
But I’m not. There, I said it. These damn cicadas give me the chronic heebie-jeebies, and I don’t care who knows it!
I was pretty much fine for about the first quarter of our walk. The crunching beneath my sneakers had made me only mildly nauseated. But when I got to the park entrance and saw All… Those… Trees…, I thought to myself, There’s no fucking way.
So we turned around and headed home. It was then that the cicadas sensed my presence. The signal went through the trees. Small squadrons were sent out intermittently to dive bomb my head. One flew within inches of me, and I squealed like a little girl. The sound of their wings makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and do jumping-jacks.
Still one-third mile from my home, I picked up my pace. I kept looking behind me and making ridiculous movements because I was sure one had landed on my back. Thank God I was the only person stupid enough to be out walking this morning.
For the next few weeks, I’ll be sticking to the treadmill, thankyouverymuch.
Comments
would you please take photos when you put Daisy and Stella on The Treadmill for their walks?
Posted by: heather at June 4, 2007 05:32 PM
Damn you, Heather! Beat me to it!
Posted by: Marty at June 4, 2007 10:42 PM
I saw a cicada once and it freaked me out to no end. I'm still emotionally scarred from it. Luckily Madison doesn't seem to be affected, apparently we rustle around too much for them to hybernate here.
The Birds is one of my all time FAVORITE movies.
Posted by: Hope at June 6, 2007 11:33 AM
I HATE your town right now. AND I have to go there once or twice a week for stupid eye infection. Blind in one eye, I can run to my car, open the door and lock myself in in under 30 seconds to get away from those damn things. Is there any part of town that they aren't in?!
Posted by: Vicki at June 11, 2007 04:11 PM