Yesterday, while sitting on my front porch in my little town just minutes from the border with DC, I saw one of these --the biggest dang wasp I've ever seen-- a full 2 inches long and redder than this specimen is--
hunt, wrestle and kill one of these --a common green cicada.
I actually heard it --a loud rustling noise with repeated strikes against the garbage can-- before I saw it.
Once the cicada was stunned, the wasp (only the females hunt or have stingers I learned) had to make several efforts to get a good grip. . .
before she could fly off with it to her lair to feed the little wasp grubs. Creepy and beautiful, it was a moment of gross grace. What is it the theologian said about the beautiful being a dimension of the terrible?
Pictures, and all you could wish to know about the cicada-killer wasp, here.
