I hadn’t set out to look after cicada eggs as well as an adult cicada, but there we were. I started looking into what happened after they were laid and how to give the nymphs a chance when the time came.

Today’s job was getting Flicky onto another tree branch. I’d been experimenting with soaking branches in honey and water, hoping that the leaves and wood might remain suitable for her to feed from. The latest branch had been sitting in a very dilute honey mixture for about an hour and a half, and I’d split part of it down the middle to help it absorb the liquid.

My understanding of how plants move nutrients around was still a little questionable. I knew sugars were produced in the leaves through photosynthesis and transported through the phloem, while cicadas feed from the xylem. I wondered whether there might be some movement of nutrients between the two systems that would help Flicky, particularly with the honey mixture. That’s what I was hoping, anyway. I wasn’t exactly an expert on trees.

The honey was diluted to roughly one part in ten, which seemed rather more sensible than the one-in-five mixture I’d tried earlier. I was also replacing branches frequently, initially every day and then about every half-day. I felt a bit sorry for the tree supplying all these branches, but I was trying to find something that would keep Flicky feeding.

“It likes tree. I like tree.”

That’s about as good an explanation as I could offer.

Flicky was now spending time in a 50 litre tub with several branches available. The temperature was around 26 degrees, although it climbed to about 28 degrees later on, and I was trying to balance sunlight with not making the enclosure too hot. At one point she spent seven hours feeding, took a break for about an hour and a half, and then went straight back to it. I was rather impressed by that.

There was another little observation worth recording. After she’d been feeding for around ten minutes, I noticed clear fluid being expelled. That seemed encouraging, as it suggested she was taking in liquid from the branch. Whether the honey was actually helping was another question, but at least she appeared to be getting something.

I’d also started thinking more seriously about the eggs. The egg-bearing branches needed to remain moist, but I wasn’t going to use honey water for those. Plain water seemed a better option while I worked out how to keep the wood from drying out before the nymphs hatched. From what I’d been reading, that could take around 70 days for a Floury Baker, which meant I potentially had a much longer project on my hands.

The other difficulty was working out whether Flicky had finished laying eggs. If she stopped looking for suitable branches and spent all her time feeding, that might be a sign she’d finished. Of course, the alternative was that she was simply having a rest. She wasn’t particularly interested in explaining herself to me.

I’d also been looking at the honey itself. I ended up with some Australian Wild Nectar honey rather than Capilano, and discovered it was labelled as cold extracted. I knew I liked cold-extracted apple juice, but whether that made the slightest difference to a cicada was beyond me. I was hoping the mixture contained something useful without creating any more problems for her.

For now she seemed happy enough to keep feeding, although she occasionally stopped and left me wondering whether she was resting or wanted another branch. I could watch her for hours and still not be entirely sure what she was thinking.

Looking after a cicada is surprisingly involved, especially when you’ve also got a full-time job. And if those eggs hatch, this little experiment is only going to get more interesting!

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