A few transports back, our lead driver Darryl found a cicada and wanted to scare Morgan, our rescue coordinator, with him. Darryl knew not who he was dealing with, because if it’s a living creature, Morgan automatically loves it with her big heart, insect or not. Thus the cicada ended up keeping her company at the check-in table and being named Gregory.
Later, after Morgan went inside the building, I kept an eye on Gregory, but in a moment of busy-ness, he disappeared. Several of us checked the area to make sure the breeze hadn’t blown him off the table, but he must have flown away, maybe to molt.
(And this is why you’re getting this post: because Mark L commented about a molted cicada shell in yesterday’s post.)
When I went inside, I told Morgan about how her little buddy had vanished, and her stoic answer was, “Gregory has to be free.”
Indeed. Fly free, Gregory!
I have never seen one – and didn’t even know what they looked like until this post – so thanks!
The empty shells do look weird, though.
You’re welcome! There are so many on my flowers–the empties, I mean.