I try to avoid topics causing thoughts of negativity or fear. After all, who wants to read about invasions when they can find plenty about them in their daily news feed? But one particular assault has been relentless, both in the media’s coverage and the anticipation of its arrival. They’re coming… I know they’re coming. One day very soon I’m going to be surrounded by buzzing, mating, disgusting cicadas.
Until we moved to the South, I admit to knowing virtually nothing about cicadas. Sure, I could pronounce the word and probably had a vague idea of what they looked like, but I’d never heard, let alone seen the insect in locales further to the West. Well, Mother Nature has decided to address that deficit of knowledge this year, in spades. The forecast infiltration of B-flick bugs is projected to run into the billions (as if anyone could possibly count how many). And they’ll be here in the next week or two.
To prepare for this overwhelming assault, I decided to learn a little more about the humble cicada. It is one of God’s more bizarre creatures, both the look and the lifecycle. Cicadas live underground almost their entire lives. They feed on the sap of plant roots. The only time they surface is to mate, about fifteen years after birth. The females lay their eggs in slits they make in the branches of trees. After birth their little “nymphs” plunge to the ground, where they burrow down deep to begin their subterranean lives, and the cycle starts over again while Mom and Dad promptly enter the pearly gates of cicada heaven.
It’s the stuff of horror movies, this bonanza of bugs. The problem is, a realistic depiction on the big screen has to include a soundtrack loud enough to make the viewing unbearable. THIS is what your local reporter is so jazzed about. The male cicada makes a shrill sound to attract the female, which can only be described as an incessant scritch-scritch, scritch-scritch. Now multiply the sound by billions, and the better descriptor is “lawnmower” or “jet engine”. Best get a set of earplugs while the stores still have them.
The “buzz” (ugh) about this year’s offensive is the overlapping emergence of two broods where there would normally only be one. It’s a doubling-up that hasn’t happened since the days of Thomas Jefferson. There’s enough membership in both clubs to adjust the forecast from “billions” to “trillions”. Brings a new meaning to “take shelter”.
Let’s build the horror film script, shall we? Cicadas make their skritch-skritch sound with vibrating membranes on their abdomens [pausing here to allow stomachs to settle]. Cicadas shed their exoskeleton as they transition from juvenile to adult (time to grow up, little ones), and leave those shells all over tree trunks for us humans to find afterwards. Finally, cicadas are chock full of tree sap. For a wish-I’d-never-read-it analogy, just think of cicadas as nature’s Gushers… the bright green variety of the candy.
Birds will be thrilled with the arrival of trillions of Gushers. They’ll feed on them to their heart’s content. Okay, so now we’re talking about two cicada invasions followed by one bird invasion. Oh, and throw in several poisonous copperhead snakes while you’re at it. The copperheads like to hang out at the base of the trees, to feed on any falling cicadas. I told you this would be a horror movie.
The rumors are flying on the when and where of this year’s cicada onslaught. America’s Midwest and Southeast regions seem to be sure things. More specifically, Illinois and Georgia, although one report includes several counties here in South Carolina. Seriously, the thought of untold numbers of these winged nightmares living below the very ground I walk my dog on puts some serious shakes into my legs.
Despite the headlines and anticipation (and the inevitable movie due out next Halloween) there’s very little “horror” to expect from the cicada raid. They don’t bite, they don’t move around much, and they die pretty darned quick after they mate. I’m guessing they don’t care much about the humans walking underneath them either, because they’re too busy making trillions of nymphs.
Normally this time of year I’m complaining about a wholly different invasion of insects. Out in Colorado – where we still have a “For Sale” sign on the property of our former ranch – we’re about to get a visit from the wretched miller moth (which I blogged about in Late Night Racquet Sports). Like the cicada, miller moths don’t bite and don’t care much about humans, but man do they migrate. Like, from the Midwest to the Rocky Mountain states and on into Utah. They’re so messy I’d almost prefer a double dose of trillions of cicadas instead. Like I have a choice.
Some content sourced from the Mercer University article, “What’s up with all the cicadas?…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.
Life In A Word 
Here’s hoping they don’t choose to visit your area! Ric
LikeLiked by 1 person
The closest we get to that out here in Nevada is the mormon cricket. They can eat a lot, but I don’t think they make as much noise as a cicadas.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We have some sort of cricket down here too but in far fewer numbers. And decibels.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Two different varieties overlapping for the first time since the days of Thomas Jefferson. That’s wild!
This: The “buzz” (ugh) –awesome. There was another pun or two in there, but I could only cntrl copy one thing at a time. But I noticed and appreciated. Cicadas are one of those insects that seem so pointless, unless, I guess, you consider the food chain and the banner year for birds and copperheads. Maybe Hitchcock’s movie was really just birds going for cicadas, but all those humans got in the way.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like your theory on “The Birds”, Betsy. Viewers are probably wondering how they got all those birds so frenzied. The film crew probably just waited for some nearby cicada infestation. Brilliant!
LikeLiked by 1 person
And the cicadas were too small to be seen on film. Yep. That must have been it. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
I have tinnitus. So, I get to hear pretty loud buzzing during my waking hours.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You win, Neil. Tinnitus may be the only thing more annoying than a trillion cicadas.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can vouch for the cicadas being VERY LOUD! I haven’t seen them much, but they are loud. It’s a buzzing sound it seems.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t drop down to Springfield anytime soon – the experts predict the city will experience one of the largest overlaps in the country!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Safe to say I never want to eat gushers again ha! I think I am safe in NYC, not much dirt or trees for them to live in/on. I’ll stick with the rats and cockroaches haha, they’re a little quieter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, but I can only imagine the stories you’ve heard about little creatures roaming the city. I’d rather not hear those stories, thank you 🙂
LikeLike
We get cicadas, sometimes when predicted by the brood number, sometimes just because a few of them are off cycle. Apparently that can happen, suggesting they might not be the brightest bugs out there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well Dave, here is where some teenage lingo comes in handy: simply put, they are “gross” and there’s no way to avoid them, although SE Michigan is not in line for either brood thank goodness. But in years past, I’d go out in the backyard to find their shells snagged on a rosebush or littered around the yard. The last invasion of cicadas we had, several Master gardeners warned to wrap small ornamental trees to protect their bark from an influx of cicadas. As we near the height of the invasion, I keep seeing recipes posted on social media with the caveat that if you have shellfish allergies, you shouldn’t eat them.
A friend grew up in your state and she told me the palmetto bugs were a force to be reckoned with, both outside and inside, as they hitch a ride on your clothes. Ugh – no, make that double ugh! We have the mayflies that hatch and die within 24 hours … they are ugly but if they land on you, just flick them off with your finger. But … we have more ticks than ever this year due to the warm Winter, so it did not kill them off. Ticks me off as most hiking trails are not cement or neatly cut grass.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Ticks me off…” – wonderful 🙂 Candidly, bugs don’t bother me as long as I know they’re not harmful. Hence the cicadas can do what they do and I’m good with them. Ditto the palmetto bugs – they’re easy to recognize and not much of a nuisance. Even the nasty-looking wolf spiders we stomp on at our barn are harmless (and actually welcome since they kill other bugs). But I’m always on the alert for, say, brown recluse spiders, because we do have them (somewhere) here in South Carolina. True to their name, they like dark places (like my workshop shed). Glad to hear the Detroit area isn’t a target for the cicada overlap!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brown recluse spiders are very dangerous. Many years ago my father worked with a man who lost most of his arm from a brown recluse spider bite. The man was transferring wood from a rack in the yard to take into the house for the fireplace. The spider bit him in the arm as he moved the wood. Something happened rapidly to the nerves in his arm, the flesh was destroyed and the arm was amputated. All from a spider bite, so please be careful. We have brown recluse spiders here in Michigan and wolf spiders (which I’ve not seen, but the pictures do look scary). I’m terrified of spiders and centipedes and always have been. The cicadas are annoying for their sound – even a few of them when you’re outside working will get on your nerves.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Texas has annual cicadas in addition to periodical cicadas. I sure remember how loud they could be when we lived there and made the mistake of going camping during cicada season!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh boy–a double infestation?! I remembered you were expecting a large turn-out, but not of two kinds at once! A great article, Dave–fun to read! (I wonder if a local newspaper or magazine would like to print it? Seems like more people ought to have the chance to read this!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Still quiet down here Nancy, but I expect our rising temps and humidity will eventually coax the bugs out of the ground. If it’s overlapping broods it’s sure to make the headlines. Either way it’ll be worthy of earplugs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Better get the heavy-duty kind! 😬
LikeLike
It’s a constant whirring in the evenings in Japan. You don’t see them, but you hear them! When my son came to visit he said, I know that sound… from Japanese video games.
LikeLiked by 1 person
For all the noise they make it’s a wonder I can never see them. Might have to train a flashlight on our trees one of these nights. Might not like what I find!
LikeLiked by 1 person