17 Years Underground, Then 24 Hours to Live: The Strange Life of Periodical Cicadas

April Joy Jovita

17 Years Underground, Then 24 Hours to Live: The Strange Life of Periodical Cicadas

Picture this: while you’ve gone through elementary school, high school, maybe college, started a career, and lived what feels like several lifetimes, there’s been a creature just beneath your feet, growing slowly in complete darkness. For seventeen long years, it waits. Then, in one synchronized explosion of life, millions emerge from the earth for just a few weeks of frantic activity before dying. This isn’t science fiction – it’s the incredible reality of periodical cicadas, one of nature’s most bizarre and fascinating insects.

The Great Underground Marathon

The Great Underground Marathon (image credits: unsplash)
The Great Underground Marathon (image credits: unsplash)

Deep beneath the soil, periodical cicada nymphs live a life that makes hermits look social. These pale, bug-eyed creatures spend nearly two decades feeding on tree root juices, growing at a pace that would make sloths seem speedy. They molt their skin five times during this underground journey, each time getting slightly bigger but never seeing a single ray of sunlight. Think of it like being stuck in the world’s longest, darkest basement – except you’re perfectly content to stay there. The nymphs create intricate tunnel systems, sometimes going as deep as eight feet underground, creating their own subterranean cities.

The Mystery of Perfect Timing

The Mystery of Perfect Timing (image credits: unsplash)
The Mystery of Perfect Timing (image credits: unsplash)

How do millions of cicadas know exactly when to emerge after 17 years underground? Scientists believe these insects have an internal molecular clock that counts the seasonal temperature changes above ground. It’s like having the world’s most patient alarm clock that only goes off once every 17 years. The nymphs can sense when soil temperatures consistently reach about 64 degrees Fahrenheit, signaling that spring has arrived in their 17th year. This synchronized emergence is so precise that you can literally mark your calendar for the next brood’s appearance decades in advance.

Breaking Free from Their Underground Prison

Breaking Free from Their Underground Prison (image credits: unsplash)
Breaking Free from Their Underground Prison (image credits: unsplash)

When the moment finally arrives, the emergence is nothing short of spectacular. Millions of marble-sized holes appear in the ground as nymphs begin their final journey to the surface. They usually emerge at night, when temperatures are cooler and predators are less active. The nymphs crawl out of their tunnels like tiny zombies rising from the earth, their eyes glowing red in flashlight beams. Within hours, entire forests can be carpeted with these emerging insects, creating a scene that looks like something from a nature documentary.

The Great Transformation

The Great Transformation (image credits: wikimedia)
The Great Transformation (image credits: wikimedia)

Once above ground, the nymphs immediately search for vertical surfaces – tree trunks, fence posts, or even your garden shed. They dig their claws into the bark and begin the most dramatic transformation of their lives. Their brown, armor-like skin splits open along the back, and out crawls a completely different creature. The process takes about an hour, during which the cicada is completely vulnerable, soft, and pale white. It’s like watching a butterfly emerge from a cocoon, except these insects have been waiting 17 years for this single moment. The empty shells, called exuvia, remain clinging to trees like ghostly reminders of this magical transformation.

Racing Against Time

Racing Against Time (image credits: wikimedia)
Racing Against Time (image credits: wikimedia)

After emerging, adult cicadas have just a few weeks to accomplish everything they need to do in life. Their wings need to harden, their bodies need to darken, and they must find a mate – all while avoiding countless predators who see this emergence as an all-you-can-eat buffet. The males immediately begin their famous singing, creating a sound so loud it can damage human hearing at close range. These insects literally live life in fast-forward, cramming a lifetime of activity into what amounts to less than a month above ground. Every minute counts when you’ve waited 17 years for your chance at reproduction.

The Loudest Natural Sound in North America

The Loudest Natural Sound in North America (image credits: flickr)
The Loudest Natural Sound in North America (image credits: flickr)

Male cicadas produce what scientists consider the loudest natural sound made by any insect in North America. Using drum-like organs called tymbals on their abdomen, they can generate sounds reaching 120 decibels – louder than a rock concert or a chainsaw. The sound is so intense that the cicadas actually turn off their own hearing while singing to avoid damaging themselves. Each species has its own unique song, like nature’s version of a dating app where you swipe right based on sound rather than photos. The collective chorus of millions of males can be heard from miles away, creating an otherworldly soundtrack that dominates entire regions.

Why 17 Years Isn’t Random

Why 17 Years Isn't Random (image credits: unsplash)
Why 17 Years Isn’t Random (image credits: unsplash)

The 17-year cycle isn’t arbitrary – it’s a mathematical survival strategy that would impress any statistician. Seventeen is a prime number, which means it doesn’t divide evenly into the life cycles of most predators. This makes it nearly impossible for any predator to evolve a life cycle that would sync up with the cicadas’ emergence. It’s like nature’s own version of a security code that’s almost impossible to crack. Some cicada species emerge every 13 years instead, another prime number, while annual cicadas appear every year but in much smaller numbers. This prime number strategy is so effective that it’s been working for millions of years.

The Predator Feast Phenomenon

The Predator Feast Phenomenon (image credits: unsplash)
The Predator Feast Phenomenon (image credits: unsplash)

When periodical cicadas emerge, they essentially throw themselves a massive funeral – one where they’re both the guests of honor and the main course. Birds, mammals, reptiles, and other insects gorge themselves on the slow-moving, defenseless adults. However, the cicadas have turned this predation into their secret weapon through what scientists call “predator satiation.” By emerging in massive numbers all at once, they ensure that predators simply can’t eat them all. It’s like if every pizza place in town gave away free pizza on the same day – there would be so much food that most of it would go untouched, no matter how hungry people were.

Love Songs and Mating Madness

Love Songs and Mating Madness (image credits: unsplash)
Love Songs and Mating Madness (image credits: unsplash)

Romance among periodical cicadas is a noisy, frantic affair that makes speed dating look leisurely. Males climb high into trees and sing their hearts out, literally vibrating their entire bodies to produce their mating calls. Females respond with wing-flicking sounds that are much quieter but equally important in the courtship ritual. Once a pair mates, the female uses her sharp ovipositor to cut slits in tree branches where she deposits her eggs. A single female can lay up to 600 eggs, ensuring the next generation has the best possible chance of survival. The entire mating process happens in a rush because time is running out faster than sand in an hourglass.

The Dying Time

The Dying Time (image credits: unsplash)
The Dying Time (image credits: unsplash)

After mating and laying eggs, adult cicadas begin to die en masse, their brief above-ground lives coming to an end. Their bodies litter the ground beneath trees, creating a crunchy carpet that sounds like walking on autumn leaves. This mass death isn’t tragic – it’s the final act of their life strategy, providing nutrients to the forest ecosystem and fertilizing the trees where their offspring will eventually feed. The smell can be overwhelming in areas with dense populations, but this decomposition is actually feeding the very trees that will sustain the next generation. Within about six weeks of emergence, virtually all adults are dead, leaving only their eggs to carry on the cycle.

Baby Cicadas Begin Their Journey

Baby Cicadas Begin Their Journey (image credits: flickr)
Baby Cicadas Begin Their Journey (image credits: flickr)

About six to eight weeks after the eggs are laid, tiny cicada nymphs hatch and immediately fall from the trees to the ground below. These newborns are smaller than rice grains and completely helpless on the surface. They must quickly burrow into the soil and find tree roots to begin feeding – a process that’s like a blind treasure hunt where failure means death. Those lucky enough to find suitable roots will begin their own 17-year underground journey, not knowing that they won’t see daylight again until the 2040s. The survival rate is incredibly low, which is why females lay so many eggs.

Different Broods, Same Amazing Story

Different Broods, Same Amazing Story (image credits: wikimedia)
Different Broods, Same Amazing Story (image credits: wikimedia)

Scientists have identified 15 different broods of 17-year cicadas and three broods of 13-year cicadas across North America. Each brood has its own geographic range and emergence schedule, like nature’s own touring schedule that spans decades instead of months. Some broods overlap in certain areas, creating “double emergence” years that are even more spectacular than usual. Brood X, which emerged in 2021, is the largest and most famous, covering parts of 15 states with billions of insects. These broods have been tracked and studied for over 300 years, making them some of the most documented insects in history.

Climate Change and Cicada Confusion

Climate Change and Cicada Confusion (image credits: unsplash)
Climate Change and Cicada Confusion (image credits: unsplash)

Rising global temperatures are beginning to affect these precisely-timed insects in unexpected ways. Some cicadas are emerging earlier than expected, while others seem confused by irregular temperature patterns that don’t match their ancient internal clocks. Scientists have documented instances of cicadas emerging in small numbers during off-years, possibly triggered by unusually warm springs. This climate disruption could potentially break the synchronized emergence that’s been their survival strategy for millions of years. It’s like having your perfectly-set alarm clock suddenly start going off at random times instead of when you need it most.

Cicada Cuisine and Cultural Impact

Cicada Cuisine and Cultural Impact (image credits: wikimedia)
Cicada Cuisine and Cultural Impact (image credits: wikimedia)

Believe it or not, periodical cicadas are considered a delicacy in many cultures and are actually quite nutritious – they’re high in protein and low in fat. Some adventurous chefs have created cicada recipes ranging from chocolate-covered treats to cicada tacos. Beyond cuisine, these insects have inspired art, music, and literature for centuries. Their synchronized emergence has been interpreted as everything from biblical plagues to symbols of rebirth and renewal. In Japan, cicadas are celebrated in poetry and art as symbols of summer and the fleeting nature of life.

The Next Great Emergence

The Next Great Emergence (image credits: unsplash)
The Next Great Emergence (image credits: unsplash)

The next major emergence will depend on which brood you’re tracking, but some areas won’t see their periodical cicadas again until 2038 or beyond. For many people, this means they might only witness this phenomenon two or three times in their entire lives. The anticipation builds slowly, like waiting for a comet that only appears once every few decades. When the time comes, millions of people will venture outside to witness one of nature’s most incredible spectacles – the emergence of creatures that have been patiently waiting underground since they were children, or even before they were born.

Conclusion

Cicada on a tree bark
Cicada on a tree bark. Hectonichus, CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The story of periodical cicadas reminds us that nature operates on timescales we can barely comprehend, where patience isn’t just a virtue – it’s a survival strategy refined over millions of years. These insects spend 99% of their lives in darkness, waiting for just a few weeks of frantic activity in the sun. Their synchronized emergence is both a celebration of life and a reminder of its fragility, where timing isn’t just everything – it’s the difference between species survival and extinction. What other secrets might be waiting just beneath our feet, counting down their own mysterious clocks?

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