The "much-maligned" life of cicadas explored
John Doucet
Issue date: 3/22/07 Section: Editorial
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Ever wonder what it would be like to be a cicada?
Okay. Maybe it's just me.
But you should consider this type of wondering because cicadas are fairly neat.
Adult cicadas are large, fly-looking insects with large heads (which, some say, explains my affinity for them), cellophane-like wings, and a pointy straw for a mouth.
Juvenile cicadas ("nymphs") are mole-like bugs that climb out of mud burrows in late spring, claw their way up the sides of trees or other yard wood things, and then, like the incredible Hulk off his meds, split their shells to allow emergence of their winged, adult glory.
And then, after this wondrous physical and spiritual display of bug transcendence, they spend every sunlit hour of the ensuing summer months asking us to keep quiet with their "Shhhhh!" exclamations like librarians on crack.
Of course, we shouldn't be offended by these admonitions for quietude because cicadas' sounds are not meant for us. Without cell phones or Internet dating services available to them, male cicadas make this sound to call their mates. Scientists have identified over 1500 different cicada mating calls, and this likely explains where the idea for musical ring tones came from. Further, according to scientists, some males can adapt their calls for different types of females and for different times of day. This explains where the idea for many rap tunes comes from. None of this, however, explains, why some lonely scientists were studying cicada mating calls.
Like most insects, cicadas live a much-maligned life. In ancient times, the Greeks used to eat them (they're high in protein and roughage), the Egyptians used to wear them (they make an attractive but tickly cartouche), and the Chinese used to cage them as pets (they don't bark all night). Arguably the worst cicada maligning, however, derives from colonial America where early British settlers equated massive summer emergences of cicadas with Biblical plagues. Since then, Americans have mistakenly called cicadas "locusts," which is a particularly offensive epithet to cicadas themselves. Locusts are actually grasshoppers-the "pigs" of the insect world-with some species capable of forming million-man swarms and devastating entire crops. Cicadas, on the other hand have adapted a much more "green" lifestyle. With their straw-like mouths, adult and nymph cicadas draw only small volumes of fluids from plant roots or twigs and do not chew leaves or damage flowers. When adult female cicadas split small tree branches to deposit their eggs, the splitting process serves as natural pruning and encourages new growth. And when cicadas die by the billions each year, degradation of the protein and DNA from their big bodies and wings returns a substantial mass of useable nitrogen to forest soils. Al Gore should be pleased.
Okay. Maybe it's just me.
But you should consider this type of wondering because cicadas are fairly neat.
Adult cicadas are large, fly-looking insects with large heads (which, some say, explains my affinity for them), cellophane-like wings, and a pointy straw for a mouth.
Juvenile cicadas ("nymphs") are mole-like bugs that climb out of mud burrows in late spring, claw their way up the sides of trees or other yard wood things, and then, like the incredible Hulk off his meds, split their shells to allow emergence of their winged, adult glory.
And then, after this wondrous physical and spiritual display of bug transcendence, they spend every sunlit hour of the ensuing summer months asking us to keep quiet with their "Shhhhh!" exclamations like librarians on crack.
Of course, we shouldn't be offended by these admonitions for quietude because cicadas' sounds are not meant for us. Without cell phones or Internet dating services available to them, male cicadas make this sound to call their mates. Scientists have identified over 1500 different cicada mating calls, and this likely explains where the idea for musical ring tones came from. Further, according to scientists, some males can adapt their calls for different types of females and for different times of day. This explains where the idea for many rap tunes comes from. None of this, however, explains, why some lonely scientists were studying cicada mating calls.
Like most insects, cicadas live a much-maligned life. In ancient times, the Greeks used to eat them (they're high in protein and roughage), the Egyptians used to wear them (they make an attractive but tickly cartouche), and the Chinese used to cage them as pets (they don't bark all night). Arguably the worst cicada maligning, however, derives from colonial America where early British settlers equated massive summer emergences of cicadas with Biblical plagues. Since then, Americans have mistakenly called cicadas "locusts," which is a particularly offensive epithet to cicadas themselves. Locusts are actually grasshoppers-the "pigs" of the insect world-with some species capable of forming million-man swarms and devastating entire crops. Cicadas, on the other hand have adapted a much more "green" lifestyle. With their straw-like mouths, adult and nymph cicadas draw only small volumes of fluids from plant roots or twigs and do not chew leaves or damage flowers. When adult female cicadas split small tree branches to deposit their eggs, the splitting process serves as natural pruning and encourages new growth. And when cicadas die by the billions each year, degradation of the protein and DNA from their big bodies and wings returns a substantial mass of useable nitrogen to forest soils. Al Gore should be pleased.
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