Noise and more noise

Maggie and I have a slight difference of opinion about aircon in cars. It's fine, I don't really mind it but I always find it a bit odd. The jet of cold air supercools wherever it is directed whilst the sun, streaming in through the glass, cooks other body parts. I prefer the windows open. It's not as cool, granted, and it's not always the best option but, generally, I prefer the feeling of space and being able to breathe. Usually, of course, when we travel together we have the aircon on.

I must have been feeling uppity because, a few days ago, the windows were open. As we went along at maybe 80k the sound of the cicadas in the countryside was as plain as the hotel neighbours groaning through the wall. Cicadas are pretty loud and insistent for small beasts.

I didn't understand the idea behind a few. My father, exasperated by my questioning and my inability to grasp the abstract concept, told me that a few was 13. I still sometimes think of a few as being 13.

I heard a small boy being given similar sort of information; the sort that sticks with you for the rest of your life. The boy had said something about the noise from the grillos. Grillos are crickets. "No!" corrected his mother - at least I'm supposing it was his mother - "Cicadas (cigarras) sing by day, grillos sing at night."

I don't think I knew that either. I wonder if there's an overlap? And when do the grasshoppers (saltamontes) get their turn?

I went to make a cup of tea a moment or two ago. The noise from our summer garden was as it should be. The cigarras were singing.

Have a listen