Under the cloak of night, the earth begins to stir, whispering secrets of an ancient ritual untouched by time. In the depths of the shadowy soil, a legion awaits, their bodies encapsulated in a natural crypt for 13 or 17 long years. This spring heralds a rare and foreboding event, a cicada double dose set to invade parts of the United States, an occurrence so rare it has been centuries in the making, dubbed "cicada-geddon."
As the ground warms to 64 degrees, signaling their time has come, these red-eyed harbingers of the underworld emerge en masse. They are nature's own gothic tale, with jet-like muscles propelling their ascent from the earth's embrace, and pumps in their heads drawing the lifeblood from trees. They are not merely insects; they are the embodiment of nature's dark beauty, its power, and its eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth.
The air soon fills with a collective song as loud as jet engines, a haunting melody that blankets the landscape. These black-bodied specters, with bulging eyes that see into the souls of those who dare to look, cover houses and make the ground beneath our feet crunch with the remnants of their past lives. Their appearance is a gothic ode to the transient nature of existence, a reminder of the world that thrives hidden from the human eye.
This year, an unusual confluence of two broods, last witnessed when Thomas Jefferson penned his observations, mistakenly calling them locusts, adds a layer of historical mystique to their arrival. These periodical cicadas, with their alien-like emergence and prime number life cycle, epitomize the gothic fascination with the macabre and the mysterious. They are nature's paradox—fat, slow, and delectable to predators, yet so numerous they transcend their vulnerability, emerging triumphant against the odds.
As they begin their courtship in the screaming trees, a gothic romance unfolds. The male's serenade—a rising "ffaairro"—meets the female's wing flick, a delicate dance of life played out in nature's cathedral. Their story is a fleeting whisper in the vast timeline of the earth, a momentary glimpse into the wonders and horrors of the natural world.
As the cicada nymphs fall to the ground to begin their long slumber, we are left with a sense of awe and a touch of melancholy. For in their eerie beauty and overwhelming presence, cicadas stir something primal within us, a connection to the darker, unseen forces that shape our world.
And so, the tale of the cicada invasion is not one of fear, but of fascination—a gothic narrative woven into the very fabric of nature, a periodic reminder of the beautiful, bewildering, and often bizarre tapestry of life on earth.
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