Crickets are likely one of my favourite insects. Actually, they’re one of the few I like for more than just a surly demeanor and a tendency to eat their own mates. I like crickets because of how relaxing they are.
Right now I am sitting on a big green couch that is comfy enough to be a bed, and it is night time. It is so night time, in fact, that it is literally pitch black outside and you can’t see an inch in front of your nose because of the cloud cover covering the moon and the stars. The breeze rolling in from outside is gently brushing my feet, and the rhythmic sound of waves can be heard in the not-so-far distance. The missing part of the picture? Crickets.
The musical chirping courses throughout the night, punctuated by the rolls of the waves and the staccato of my fingers bashing my keyboard. To them, they are just lookin’ for love: to me, these amazing little insects are playing Nature’s violin. By rubbing their hind legs together, crickets create the most signature sound of a summer night anywhere in the world.
The best part about crickets, however, lies not in their musical talents. Oh no, the best part about crickets is that they are the social police.
Every time someone says something utterly stupid, the crickets make it known that that guy just made a comedic boo boo. Every time that annoying guy comes up and asks “How ’bout them jays?” the crickets remind him that they suck(Don’t lynch me).
Crickets are not only a sign of summer nights, but a police force for the completely inept. You say something dumb? Watch your ass, ’cause you never know when the cricket police with amplify your stupidity a hundred fold.
Also, they help me sleep. Sleep is good. Ergo, crickets are awesome. ’nuff said.