Specius speciosus, here is a topic certain to grab everyone's attention. It has been a central focus of the 'pondit' and several of his neighbors each July and August. Most of the northeast is free from this plague that missed the Pharaoh but has settled in the Dickerson Pond environs, the giant cicada hornets.
These are BIG insects! Several local residents have slightly exaggerated the size of these flying 
creatures and compared them to pterodactyls that they remember from years back. The Dickerson Pond community is an aging community, but I have challenged some of the residents about their age and memories.
Every sunny morning about thirty to fifty of these flying fortresses zoom around our English garden in search for hot, torrid waspian rapture. Mate, tunnel, kill, fertilize and repeat. This is the essence of their two month of terrorizing our garden. Our stone patios around the garden are slowly sinking into the middle earth as the tunnels created by these beasts become as numerous as the stars in the sky. Two unconfirmed sightings of cicada hornets carrying off a toy poodle and a calico cat might also be a product of local minds under the influence of steroids or martinis.
I did mention that these critters are BIG. They hunt and kill cicadas that are in our linden trees and provide the nightly concerts for our area.
Now these delicacies are harmless but are one to two inches long. Our winged beasts of terror, the cicada hornets, kill these insects then fly back to our garden carrying the carcass in order to bury it as food for next year's crop of killers. Are you starting to get the idea of just how large these modern day pterodactyls really are?
Tunnels, so the fertilized female cicada hornet digs a tunnel to store the cicada she is about to hunt. The dry gravel between our patio stones is an ideal medium for this work. One tunnel will leave a mound about three by three by three of debris on our patio. One tunnel we can accept, hundreds is socially unacceptable and has led me and others to seek out internet help for controlling these predators. One "practical" idea was to come out late at night and cover the patio or nesting area with a fine mesh. In the morning when the burrowing females wake to start there cycle over again you can bombard them with liquid or powder chemical agents (Weapons of Wasp Destruction). That did not seem sporting to me. One neighbor spent two days rearranging his patio stones to decrease the gaps between the stones. Two days of rock moving did not seem attractive to me, and has proven only marginally successful.
But there was another eradication method proposed one site that fit my warped sense mortal combat. Now during the frenzied period of cicada hornet daily mating, I stand with tennis racket in hand waiting for a hornet to light on the outer branch of one of the large evergreen shrubs in the garden. They rest only for seconds. A step or two nearer and using my preferred forehand stroke with a western grip, I swing in anticipation of the escape path the cicada hornet will take. I listen for the distinct ping of cat gut striking beast. That sound is a confirmed hit. I then search in the direction I most likely propelled the hornet and use my Mick Jagger flip flops to confirm the kill. Yesterday I had sixteen hits and eight confirmed kills. This is a good day, but not a record. My neighbor's mother who comes visiting on weekends from Chinatown in NYC, prefers a badminton racket. It is lighter and allows for more speed through the killing zone. I have to try one.
I know, I need to get a life.
