Back when we had our big cicada emergence somebody edited up a cursor file for Windows that was a teeny little cicada with big red eyes. It was animated and flew in a little orbit around the spot your mouse pointer was actually designating. It didn’t make noise, but it was cool. For a couple weeks untll the cicadas mostly died out and by then, just like the critters’ noise, it had become a bit too much of a good thing and I switched back to the default mouse cursor.
Fun times.
To be clear, I was referencing this old game:
But it is such an evocative idea. Each brood telling their children how monstrous the other brood is, taking resources that are legitimately theirs, but only getting to interact every couple of centuries. So it’s war, and on a completely predicable cycle, so each side is as prepared as they can be.
Reminiscent of the book A Deepness in the Sky, except there was only one cycle there. But the inhabitants kept trying to push the emergence forward so they’d be better prepared vs. their enemies.
I’ve never seen cicadas. What’s it like to live through it? It sounds pretty scary to me. How do you clean up? Do they invade houses, etc?
I think the only time they are found indoors is when a cat brings one in as a buzzing, fun toy/snack. Otherwise, they mostly stick to the trees, since that’s their designated egg-laying zone and they have a very limited time to mate.
They make a buzzing drone that I associate with summertime. (My late husband once commented, on a hot Texas late morning as the cicadas were starting up for the day, that it was “the sound of heat.”)
The look kinda like fat grasshoppers without the jumping legs. Oh, and bright jeweled eyes.
Great.
Well, all I can say, with my place right up against a large stand of alnus rubra, is that I have loads of birds of many different species nesting usually peacably within a short-fingered throw of desk numero uno right now.
I hope they eat every last one of those cicada mofos, because those bitches are loud AF.
And yes, even the crows are invited in on the feast…not that I would discourage the crows without a balacava and some sort of scent-cloaking product. Nasty little buggers, the crows.
But with the pileated woodpeckers and pals…naw…them cicadas might try to hide, but they cannot.
The main thing is that it is just REALLY LOUD. Like, louder than your neighbor running a gas lawnmower constantly. So you (Or I, at least) really don’t want to go outside or even open your windows. It can be a tad offputting to have these thumb-sized bugs fly into you occasionally. They seem to bumble about without much apparent purpose. There will be a lot of dead ones on the ground, but I’ve never had the need to sweep up piles of them or anything.
It can really vary from block to block, depending (I assume) on the age of the trees. If there were a lot of big trees there 17 years ago which are still standing, it will be LOUD.
Unless you are really afraid of insects the bugs themselves aren’t scary. Sorta like ladybugs, the individuals are interesting and sorta cute in their alien way. They don’t have mouths or stingers, so they can’t hurt you even if they wanted to. Which they don’t.
The noise is anywhere between faint and distant, yet everywhere, and just plain loud. As @Dinsdale said, sorta like a neighborhood infested with running gasoline lawnmowers.
Any individual doesn’t live but a few days, so if one does get in the house, just wait a day or two and it’ll be dead then you can sweep up the body. I don’t think I’ve ever had one in the house.
If they are loud enough to bother me, I just take out my hearing aid.
It’s really not. My wife is VERY scared of bugs, and they didn’t really bother her, other than an “Ick!” factor. They don’t swarm, so they don’t appear threatening. They’ll fly around a bit to find a nice spot as high as they can get, but they’re really slow and clumsy. Sometimes when I would be mowing, I would be the tallest thing in my yard, and I’d get one or two landing on my hat. They seemed more relieved than anything that they actually made it the 25 yards from wherever they started.
I like how broods have roman numeral designations. The first time I heard about cicada broods Brood X was emerging. How cool was that, I thought. Brood X sounds like groovy band name
Brood X makes me think of something that arrived from Planet X and is about to lay waste to all humanity and much of Earth’s biosphere.
From McSweeney’s: Brood X or Gen X?
They do sing a rare and different tune.
“(My late husband once commented, on a hot Texas late morning as the cicadas were starting up for the day, that it was “the sound of heat.”)”
That is very evocative of the mood. Texas cicadas are LOUD. As bugs go, they are pretty big. Totally harmless.
When we were kids, we used to catch them and tie a long piece of sewing thread around them and they would fly above us like kites. (when we were finished, we would release them unharmed)
We got Brood X in Maryland a couple of years ago (2021?). I always forget about the red eyes.
I also forget about the eerie sound they make collectively. Walking outside it sounded like there was an alien mothership about to land somewhere nearby.
Looking forward to their arrival. This is from last time. Looks like both the spring and the mid to late summer will be loud this year, between the periodicals and the annuals.
Ah, cicadas… The summer song of my youth. We called them heat bugs.
I’m ready. They fill a tree in my front yard and the sound is hypnotic. This is an interesting video on their prime number life cycles and how it affects predators.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_zV2Ll3wpg
Maybe Phil Collins can be hired for lead tympanic membrane.
Giant inflatable dash cicada spotted in Monterey CA this morning:
