the cicada and the cat
what’s in your mouth?
HEY…
… WHAT’S IN YOUR MOUTH?!
WHAT’S IN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH?!!
I repeatedly yell at my cat as I chase after her while she zips thru the apartment, jumping over and hiding under the bed making certain to keep out of my reach.
I get on my knees and crouch to look under the bed.
ah…
a cicada.
if it were a bird, I’d have tried everything to rescue it.
but… insects are free reign in my cat’s domain.
and before I could say “it’s okay… go ahead and eat it”
the cicada was consumed.
I don’t think my cat actually took more than one bite.
and from the looks of it… she’d gladly have had seconds.
I live in Northern Virginia and the cicadas are out in full force now. the mating sounds are deafening — and I love it.
every 17 years.
this is what their entirety of existence comes down to… crawling their way out of the earth. climbing up trees for sap. trying to find their mate. successfully mating if they haven’t been eaten by a predator or squashed by a human yet. only to die within a few short weeks.
then their offspring start the cycle all over again.
17 years later.
I had a recent convo with someone who felt what a sad short life they endure.
but, I thought to myself… is it? really?
I mean — what is time?
we know it’s man made.
and man made time is wholly different from actual existence. living in the moment, keeping vigilant, ready for fight and flight. something many humans no longer need worry bout. we barely sit in the present when all we keep our minds occupied with is the past or what may be our future.
so, how can we even begin to fathom how time sits with a being not even remotely close to our species?
cicadas know they need to procreate, singing for weeks, trying to avoid predators while it’s incredibly hot out and doped up on psilocybin.
ever been on a hallucinogenic? five mins can feel like five hours.
maybe four weeks feels like 100 years to them.
maybe that’s more than enough.
maybe the cicada my cat caught was a rogue just ready for it all to end.
