Listening to cicadas means late summer for me. I found a big box of cicada casings from an old project, so I made a requiem box to honor cicadas from the past. Cigar box with cicada shells drowning in frozen waves of beeswax, with a candle wick to make it a functional altar. Two wings reference the metamorphosed singing form. Aristotle promoted a myth that cicadas were once people that the Muses caused to dance and sing for so long that they died without noticing their death, Going out singing and dancing would be the ultimate! A pluckable wire references another Greek myth that a string player won a competition because a cicada sang a note to assist him after a string broke. Once you get past the yuk factor, these are things of beauty and meaning, long a symbol of resurrection as they emerge after a long underground existence.