AUDIO SLIDESHOW: The Life and Times of the Periodical Cicada
WATCH: “Looking for Love: The Life and Times of the Periodical Cicada.”
It’s not a “My West Virginia” show, but here’s the latest Gazette multimedia web show by Douglas Imbrogno and Mary Kay McFarland. It tells the tale of the current brood of periodical cicadas in West Virginia, which has been raising a racket in the eastern and western reaches of West Virginia. Don’t confuse cicadas with the far more destructive swarming locusts. Cicadas don’t bite and don’t eat: they’re just lovestruck, says John Marra, the W.Va. University Extenstion Agent for Cabell County and a go-t-guy for all things cicadas. Click on the link above to watch the show or right here. Follow the link below to read a companion article on the bug-eyed beast from the June 17, 2008 Charleston Gazette.For many across state, cicada love is in the air
By Douglas Imbrogno
The Charleston Gazette
June 17, 2008
Not everybody who reads this is hearing the same thing outside their windows. But you certainly know if your house falls within the territory of the current brood of 17-year periodical cicadas.
They’re kind of loud. And, well … everywhere if you’ve got them.
“Someone called me from South Charleston and didn’t see any,” says John Marra, the West Virginia University’s Extension Agent for Cabell County and a go-to guy for all things cicada. “I said you’re a lucky boy.”
They’ve got about a week or so to go in a wide swath that cuts across eastern and Southern West Virginia and much of the Eastern Panhandle.
What you’re hearing out there is a love story. And it’ll be back. “If you’ve got them in one location, you’re going to have them again in 17 years,” said Marra.
Cicadas are often confused with swarming locusts, which can denude crops and fields. But the cicada has no interest in eating anything in your yard or in taking a bite out of you.
“They don’t bite,” said Marra. “And their tummies are full.”
If a cicada bumps into you, it’s because you’re in his way and also because he’s not the most graceful dancer on the dance floor, he said. “They’re not the best fliers in the world - they’re sort of pudgy and have a lot of weight to keep in flight.”
They’ve been feeding underground as nymphs, sucking on the roots of trees for the last 17 years. You can tell where they came up from scores of holes near the base of their favorite trees, such as maples, oaks and fruit trees.
After they emerge, they’re looking to move up - heading high up into trees. It’s the males who sing, tensing and releasing a drumlike portion of their abdomen called a timbal. If a female thinks a male is kind of hot, she’ll flick her wings at him.
After they mate, the only damage caused by the cicada commences, Marra said. The female has a naillike ovipositor she uses to pierce holes in pencil-thin tree branches where she’ll lay hundreds of eggs. The branch sometimes dies, a loss that mature trees can handle. “Nature’s pruning, is what that is,” said Marra.
But saplings eight feet and under can lose main structural branches. That’s why you’ll see smaller trees in the brood area swathed in cheese cloth and other protective wrappings by some homeowners.
After the eggs hatch, they fall to the ground and work underground until the ancient cycle is ready to repeat itself 17 years from now.
With their bulbous red eyes, swarming ways and a massed sound akin to the landing of flying saucers in science fiction movies, the periodical cicada can seem otherworldy.
But they have just one thing on their minds after they emerge into daylight, said Mara. “They’re just looking for love.”
