It was a warm summer morning in the countryside. The trees were lush and green, and the grass shimmered with dew under the gentle touch of the sun. Birds chirped from their nests, and the air was alive with the buzz of nature. For Lala, a playful little monkey with soft golden fur and big curious eyes, every day brought new adventures.
That day, as she swung from one tree branch to another near the edge of the forest, something unfamiliar caught her attention. A strange sound—loud, rhythmic, and buzzing—seemed to come from the bark of an old tree. Lala froze mid-air, her ears twitching as she tried to locate the source.
“What’s that noise?” she whispered to herself, landing softly on a low branch.
She looked around and noticed a brown, shell-like creature clinging to the side of the tree. It wasn’t moving much, but the sound seemed to echo all around her. She tilted her head, blinked her eyes, and climbed closer.
It was her first time seeing a cicada.
The creature had large, see-through wings with intricate patterns. Its body was short and thick, and its legs were gripping tightly to the tree bark. Though it looked a bit scary at first, Lala’s curiosity was much stronger than her fear.
“Hello?” she said softly, not expecting a reply. “What are you?”
The cicada, of course, didn’t answer. It simply remained where it was, occasionally shifting its wings and letting out another loud buzzing cry.
Lala’s little hands reached out cautiously. She touched the tree near the cicada, not wanting to hurt it but longing to understand more. The cicada remained calm, vibrating its wings slightly. Lala smiled.
“I’ve never seen you before,” she continued, talking as if the insect could understand her. “Are you a bug? Why do you make that sound?”
She sat down on a thick branch and stared at the cicada. Minutes passed, and she continued to observe it—how it clung, how it hummed, and how its wings shimmered in the sunlight.
Then she remembered someone who might know the answer: Grandpa Toma, the wise old tortoise who lived by the river. He knew many things about the forest.
Lala raced through the trees, her tail swaying behind her. In no time, she reached the riverbank, where Grandpa Toma was sunbathing on a flat rock.
“Grandpa Toma! Grandpa Toma!” she called out, panting a little.
The old tortoise opened one eye. “Yes, Lala? What has you so excited this morning?”
“I saw a strange creature on a tree. It buzzes and has wings! It doesn’t fly much, but it’s really loud! Do you know what it is?”
“Hmm,” said Grandpa Toma, thinking slowly as he always did. “That sounds like a cicada.”
“A cicada?” Lala echoed. “What’s a cicada?”
“They are insects that live most of their lives underground,” explained the tortoise. “Some live in the soil for many years. When the time is right, they come out to the surface, shed their skin, and begin their short life in the sun.”
“Wow,” Lala said, eyes wide. “So they’re only up here for a little while?”
“Yes,” nodded Grandpa Toma. “Sometimes only for a few weeks. But during that time, the males sing loudly to attract females. That buzzing you heard? It’s their song.”
Lala was amazed. “They sing? I thought it was just noise!”
“All creatures have their way of communicating,” Grandpa Toma smiled. “Even if we don’t always understand it.”
“Can I learn more about them?” Lala asked eagerly.
“Of course,” he said. “Watch them. Be gentle. And ask questions. That’s how we learn.”
So Lala returned to the tree where she had seen the cicada. It was still there, and now another one had joined it. She spent hours watching them, sometimes sketching their shapes in the dirt, sometimes trying to imitate their sounds.
As the days passed, Lala learned more. She found a shed cicada shell one morning, clinging to the bark like a tiny brown ghost. She picked it up gently, marveling at how it looked just like the insect, except empty.
She saw how some cicadas emerged from the soil at night, slowly crawling up tree trunks before splitting open their old skin. Watching a transformation unfold before her eyes made her gasp with wonder.
She talked to other animals about what she learned. Thuy the squirrel told her that cicadas were food for some birds. Miko the owl said cicadas were noisy, but he didn’t mind. Even Lu, the baby monkey, laughed when Lala made cicada buzzing noises during play.
Lala’s curiosity had opened a new world for her.
She made a small book out of leaves and twine, drawing pictures of cicadas, their life cycle, and where she found them. She called it “Lala’s Book of Buzz.” Whenever a new animal came by, she proudly showed it off.
“I didn’t even know they existed before,” she said to her friends one evening as they sat under the moonlight. “But now I think they’re amazing!”
“They are,” Thuy nodded. “And so are you, Lala. You always notice the little things.”
That night, as the cicadas buzzed in the trees above, Lala closed her eyes and smiled. The forest was full of secrets, and every day was a chance to discover something new.
And for a curious little monkey like Lala, that was the most exciting thing of all.
