I should say the “orchestra” of summer — the loud buzzing that provides the musical accompaniment to backyard burger burning, picnics, watermelon eating, homemade ice cream churning, BBQs, camping and everything else we do outdoors in the good ‘ole summertime. It’s that buzzing that, as adults, brings back childhood memories and puts a smile on our faces. But what do we know about cicadas besides their “music”?
I’ve noticed during some summers the cicada chorus is almost deafening, while other summers only a few voices are heard scattered among the trees. Last summer, as I spent late nights in the studio, it was common to have five or six cicadas fly in the door and bang around on the metal ceiling, occasionally causing me to duck. This summer only one cicada came in to entertain me. Why? This question piqued my interest in researching these mysterious little insects with Edsel radiator-grill faces.
I found pages and pages of info, but what follows is cicadas in a nutshell — sharing with you only the basic interesting facts devoid of boring scientific names and terminology. Contrary to colloquial usage, cicadas are not locusts — which are swarming grasshoppers. Cicadas are relatives of leafhoppers and spittlebugs — spittlebugs . . . who would have guessed! Cicada is Latin meaning “tree cricket.” Cicadas do not bite or sting, but could, though rare, mistake you for a food tree and try to tap your sap! Ouch! To me, cicadas epitomize summer, music to my ears, but to people of China, Malaysia, Burma, Latin America and the Congo, cicadas are served skewered, deep fried, or stir fried. Not my idea of a light summer snack. Sparky’s in Columbia, Missouri put cicadas in ice cream in 2011, but the Public Health Department strongly suggested they not do it again. There are many creative insect recipes floating around, including Banana Bread Cicadas. I’m sticking with pecans in my banana bread! In Java there’s a short story collection called, “The Society on Da Dun: Dragons and Cicadas,” in which cicadas are sacred to dragons and worshiped as gods. From dinner to deity — if I were a cicada, I know where I’d want to live! An ancient Greek myth tells of Zeus turning the hero into a cicada after granting him immortality, but not eternal youth. In mythical ninja lore of Japan, ninjas trick opponents into attacking a decoy — a technique called “utsusemi,” meaning “cicada.” Cicadas are linked to decoy warfare because of the look-alike “skin” left behind when they make their final adult molt.
Five Eyes
So, cicadas symbolize many things around the world from reincarnation to characters in plays and stories, and are considered a delectable food. That just covers their reputation and status, but what about physical attributes and life cycle? Did you know they have five eyes? The obvious large two plus three small ones positioned like the three points of an upside down triangle located between the big two. Also, cicadas sweat. When the triple digit temperature goes above 102 F, they tap the trees for extra sap that they reroute from the usual excretory system to their pores for cooling.
It may be common knowledge that only the male cicada “sings,” but its not so well known that they have several songs within their species-specific buzzing. A loud one for attracting a female, a softer one for seducing her, and a distress call when picked up by a curious human. A word of caution, they are likely to “squirt” waste liquid sap. Cicadas usually sing in groups but they have a traitor side to their nature — when a member of the group feels a predator is nearby, it sings softer so the attention of the would-be predator is refocused on another member of the group — they have no qualms about throwing a neighbor to the wolves. Male cicada abdomens are mostly hollow, acting as a sound box like in acoustic string instruments. Their sound maker is made up of thin membranes and thick ribs located on both sides of the anterior region of the abdomen. Contractions of these membranes makes a click. Relaxing them makes another click, but the cycle happens so fast that human ear hears only a continuous buzzing. Both males and females have a membrane for hearing, equivalent to our ears. We can attest to the fact that cicada songs can be deafening — some as high as 120 decibels — therefore, males disable their ears while singing. Cicada songs are among the loudest insect sounds and not only loud enough to damage their hearing, but could cause permanent hearing loss in humans if a cicada were to sing up next to our ears. On the other extreme, some small cicada species sing so high pitched humans can’t even hear it. Annual cicadas in Texas are green and brown with brown eyes. Periodicals are blackish with orange eyes and an orange tint on wing veins.
Annual Cicada
Females, having been sung into seduction, lay eggs in slits they make on twigs. When the eggs hatch, the nymphs take the plunge to the ground where they burrow anywhere from less than a foot to over eight feet deep where they spend most of their lives — from two to five years for most species. The life cycle varies from the annual cicadas — sometimes called “dog days” cicadas — who emerge each year, to the periodicals who emerge every thirteen to seventeen years. Members of the annuals come up each year but not all of them come up every year — spending two to five years underground their emergence is determined by when the eggs were laid, therefore only some annuals emerge each year. Periodicals, however, all emerge on the same year, lay eggs and are not seen again for thirteen to seventeen years depending on the species.
And that is why some summers the buzzing is so deafening we feel like wearing ear protection, while other summers it’s only a memory-filled, pleasing outdoor ambiance!