I am sorry, but I cannot hear you over the siren of the cicadas. It’s like a beat getting funky in your head phones, the right side on, then the left. Not at the same time, usually, both sides, but they respond to each other’s echo, playing a game with their percussion melody. The loud siren fades out, only to come back stronger again. The symphony of their song overtakes the neighborhood, leaving a dent of solitude when they lull into silence.