The moment has come.
After years underground, periodical cicadas (insects of the genus Magicicada) are emerging by the billions in more than a dozen states to molt, sing, court and mate. A casual human listener might mistake their collective chorus for the sound of a UFO landing:
But for the individual cicada, what is underway is a courtship ritual as intimate and intricate as a tango. The stakes are high; The possible errors are many.
Check the guest list
This year, in a rare “dual emergence,” two groups of periodical cicadas attend: Brood , comprising up to four species of 13-year-old cicadas. Their songs, like those by Magicicada septendecim and Magicicada neotredecim, below, can sound deceptively similar:
Arrive early (more or less)
Female cicadas typically mate only once, so it is up to the male to emerge early; hence the mad dash from the ground to the treetops. But don’t come too soon: The first cicadas at the top are ready to be slaughtered, when “everything is hungry and predators discover they are the best to eat,” said David Marshall, a biologist and periodical cicada expert.
The chances of breeding improve in the second wave, once what ecologists call “predator satiation” occurs. “You want to be Johnny on the spot,” Dr. Marshall said. “And if you’re late, you’re really ruining everything.”
Undress
After emerging, it may need several days to adjust to life on the surface. You will immediately molt, emerging from your nymph exoskeleton and spreading your wings; It will gradually solidify and turn shiny black. Soon, when the air warms and the sun shines, it will be time for the males to sing.
Sound your timpani
The male cicada is an amplified beer can. The abdomen is hollow and on each side there is a membrane called the tymbal, similar to a woofer: vibrate it and the sound is transmitted. To change the frequency, alter the shape and position of the abdomen.
Sing a little, fly a little.
Courtship proceeds in approximately three phases, each with an associated song specific to a particular species. Initially, the male sings a short, inviting phrase a couple of times, flies a foot or two, lands, and sings again. “He’s looking for acoustically receptive females,” Dr. Marshall said. The song of M. tredecim, a trill that curves into what scientists call a descending sound when the male arches its abdomen downward, sounds like an inverted question mark: bzzz-ewwwww.
Stop, look, listen
Most women will not be receptive to male advances; either they have already mated or they are not yet physiologically ready. Males, keep an eye out for subtle wing movements, little shrugs of possible interest. Over time, these become loud and obvious clicking sounds from their wings.
Meanwhile, watch out for the buttinsky that lands nearby. Competing males can produce an interference buzz, like this one from M. tredecim: a slurred version of the invitation phrase, which interferes with the first male’s call, causing the female to ignore him and prompting him to fly away, discouraged.
Now come closer
If the female expresses interest (if she flaps her wings about half a second after the male’s invitation), the male should approach and move on to the next song. It’s similar to the first song but comes in a quick series with no spaces between phrases.
Business Time
Until this point he has been without hands or legs, but now the male can reach out and gingerly touch the female, perhaps near the eye, while he switches to his latest song, a series of staccato notes. Let the actual mating begin (and wait three to five hours for it to conclude).
Despite all this, the female has a role, Dr. Marshall notes: “Not to mate with the wrong species.” With a variety of beer cans clattering everywhere, perhaps physically broadcasting a song is a good and final way to assure the woman that she has chosen the right brand.
Oh, and avoid the zombies!
When cicadas first burrow into the ground, some will encounter the spores of Massospora cicadina, a fungus that turns cicadas into sex-crazed, spore-filled zombies that attempt to mate and spread the infection. Woe to the deceived, said Dr. Marshall: “He will become an unfortunate spreader of spores to the next generation.”
A happy ending
In four to six weeks it will all be over: the dance floor will be littered with cicada corpses, the air will reek of decay, and the trees will have tiny nests of cicada eggs. In another six to ten weeks, the eggs will hatch and the little nymphs will drop to the ground, burrow, find a rootlet to slurp on, and wait. See you in 13 or 17 years!