They break through the ground like the undead emerging from graves.
They scurry in huge packs in the same direction, through the forest floor and up trees, where they perch on the branches. There they break out of their exoskeletons, initially sickly white and soft, before they take on their red-eyed, jet-black adult form and fly away billions of times.
After 17 years as nymphs growing underground and feeding on tree roots, cicadas are back in much of the south, much to the delight of the raccoons, turtles and birds who swallow them and the entomologists who are patient on theirs Have waited to return.
“They’re big, they’re loud,” said Eric Day, an entomologist at Virginia Tech. “What is not to love about them?”
The lifespan of periodic cicadas is among the longest of any insect, but they only spend a fraction of their days in the sun. After 13 to 17 years underground, a brood will grow in one of 15 regions of the United States. This year, men have already started calling women in Southwest Virginia, West Virginia, and parts of North Carolina, the Brood IX mating area.
Usually around this time, Mr. Day gets calls from nervous brides and grooms who fear cicadas will fall into champagne flutes or disrupt outdoor ceremonies with their loud hums, he said. (The sound is only made by the man, who has a membrane in his stomach that vibrates to attract women.)
But with the coronavirus-limiting gatherings, this could be a good time for Southerners to sit in their backyards and marvel at the creatures, Mr. Day said. Some might even be tempted to eat them, according to Mr. Day, who has fried them with sake and garlic in the past.
“This is a biological phenomenon,” he said. “So we can watch them and maybe even enjoy them.”
Debbe Noonkester has no such plans. Ms. Noonkester, who owns Windy Hill Orchards in Ararat, Virginia, near the North Carolina border, said she was concerned about the damage the cicadas could do to her young apple and peach trees.
Cicadas are not poisonous – a large part of their attraction to animals – and they do no harm to humans. But they lay enormous numbers of eggs on small twigs, which does little harm to old trees, but can slow the growth of young trees and vines, or even kill them.
“They’re like those old horror films,” Ms. Noonkester said.
Ms. Noonkester said she heard the familiar hum of the cicadas on a Sunday and immediately thought of the scene in “The Shining” in which Jack Nicholson storms through a door with an ax and ominously announced, “This is Johnny! ”
She sprayed the orchard with poison to keep the number of nymphs, as young cicadas are called, down, but made sure to leave the trees alone. Ms. Noonkester said she did not want to kill the spiders and other predators that the cicadas eat.
“We like our meat eaters,” said Ms. Noonkester, who also does her part in hunting the insects. (If she sees a recently hatched cicada on a leaf, she will reach for it, throw it to the ground, and stamp it with a goodbye message: “Take this, you fool.”)
Individually, cicadas are helpless. When they drop their exoskeletons, their wings are wet and they have to wait for them to dry before they can take off. This makes them vulnerable to predators, which they grab and devour. The insects also easily fall into ponds where frogs and turtles can snatch them.
Recognition…Christopher Capozziello for the New York Times
Your primary defense? Numbers.
Shortly after a brood appears, predators are quickly overwhelmed by the abundance of insects.
“Predators cannot affect the population,” said Doug Pfeiffer, professor of entomology at Virginia Tech.
The billions that remain alive can then mate in peace and lay their eggs. The adults die quickly after their job is done. As soon as their eggs hatch, the nymphs fall to the ground, where they will nestle in the earth for the next 17 years.
Entomologists believe that periodic cicadas emerged every 13 to 17 years to avoid synchronization with the population boom of their predators.
The predictability of the cycle allows farmers to plan ahead, he said.
Because of this, Professor Pfeiffer recommends farmers not to plant new trees in the year or two before they emerge, he said.
Ms. Noonkester said she expected cicadas to come from other parts of the state and soon descend on their young trees to lay eggs. All she can do, she said, other than hope a majority of them stay in the forest, is to prune any branches that damage them and keep grabbing and pounding faulty cicadas.
“Now someone is flying over me – I couldn’t reach it,” she said. “He’s flying into the forest. He knows better. “
