The first photo is from 10:21 AM, the second from 12:58 PM.

See the first picture, the shovels for front feet, the mud-crusted shell? The cicada in its final nymph stage had dug its way out of the earth. I found it near my car, eyes opaque, legs waving weakly. I thought it was dying, and then I saw. It was focusing inward, about to molt, about to shed its outer layer and become an adult.

Molting is more than just a shedding of skin. As the old is shed, something new is created. The growth and tranformation are triggered by hormonal changes, and aided by enzymes.

A cicada in gleaming gold new flesh started to emerge.

But this particular bug didn't go any further in the process. Perhaps it was the afternoon heat. I don't know, but it was sad. Instead of life burgeoning forward, it slipped away.

Still, from the chorus of sound outside my window before dawn, and tonight as I type, it's clear that many have survived the process.