I’m waiting today for the true sound of a summer heat wave: the thin whine of cicadas piercing the humidity. Perhaps it is too early in the year yet.
Still nothing but bird song in the woods, and the distant hum of traffic on route 80.
In August, cicadas will be the daylight musak. The nights will belong to the katydids, who definitely should have been named REECH-CHEE-CHEECH because there’s nothing in their deafening song that speaks of Katy at all.
Still waiting here. No whine at all.
365/radical elements 
It was a quietish spring for tree frogs this year. I look forward to the cicadas too – they remind me of my grandparent’s cottage.
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The peepers kept coming and going as the spring weather fluctuated so much. As we get so much hotter earlier, I think the amphibians are failing and expect the insects to inherit the woods.
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I heard cicadas yesterday evening. I was shocked since I have only heard yearly cicadas sing in August, heralding the end of summer.
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Me too–they tend to be a late summer event over here.
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I didn’t hear the spring peepers at all this year. I found their silence a tad alarming. We call the katydids “the counting bugs” although they never seem to count higher than three.
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I love cicadas. And peepers. And katydids. But I’ve only heard the peepers so far this year. And yes, intermittently in the weird spring…
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So weird to hear people talking about heat waves, when we’re hunkering down for a bit of a storm.
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