This spring, nature is throwing a party with more guests than Coachella, and they all have wings, no regard for personal space, and absolutely zero sense of volume control. For the first time since the days when flip phones were cool, two massive broods of cicadas are emerging simultaneously, offering a rare event so loud and crunchy underfoot that even the most seasoned entomologist may need ear plugs and sturdy shoes.
Brood XIX, which last made a raucous appearance in 2011, and Brood XIII, who waited patiently since 2007 for their curtain call, are both climbing out of their subterranean bunkers in 2024. This sort of synchronized emergence last occurred when Thomas Jefferson was still adjusting to life outside the presidency, way back in the year 1803. A simpler time, with fewer Spotify playlists to be drowned out by the insects’ mating songs.
Billions of these red-eyed romantics are expected to emerge across 17 states, mostly in the Midwest and Southeast, where scientists say the soil is warm and welcoming, much like a cicada Airbnb but with more tree roots and fewer cleaning fees. Illinois in particular should prepare for an arthropod amphitheater, as it is the only state that gets a front-row seat to both broods. Indiana, Missouri, and Arkansas, meanwhile, will each be serenaded by a single brood, which should still be entirely sufficient to ruin a picnic.
The buzz, quite literally, is all about the cicadas’ mating rituals, which involve singing loud enough to pierce through earbuds and small talk. Male cicadas produce songs to attract females, who, to everyone’s surprise each year, seem incredibly impressed. Once the deed is done, the adults die shortly after, not from embarrassment but because that is simply the life cycle of an insect who lives underground for over a decade only to spend a few noisy weeks making sure Earth gets another generation of bark-boring bachelor bugs.
Entomologists are ecstatic of course. A mass cicada emergence is to them what a solar eclipse is to astronomers or what 24-hour sales are to online shoppers. The double emergence provides a golden opportunity to study cicada behavior, gene flow, and the curious ability to annoy entire neighborhoods before vanishing en masse like some mysterious summer pop-up store.
Of course, not everyone is thrilled. Residents in affected areas are advised to expect increased noise levels, a sharp rise in bug-themed social media content, and a brief economic boom for local windshield wiper replacement companies.
But fear not. Cicadas are completely harmless to humans, pets, and most egos, and their biggest threat may simply be to the sanctity of a quiet morning coffee on the porch. In return, they aerate the soil, provide food for birds, and remind us all that sometimes the weirdest things in life stick to a 13 or 17-year calendar.
Just think of them as nature’s surprise party from the dirt below your feet, complete with crunchy hors d’oeuvres and an unforgettable soundtrack.
After all, who doesn’t enjoy being serenaded by a billion insects in pursuit of love?