The latest buzz on the 2024 cicada boom

The total solar eclipse on April 8 isn’t the only extremely rare natural event in store for 2024. From late April through June, at least 16 states across the Southeast and Midwest will

experience something that hasn’t happened since 1803 — the simultaneous, widespread emergence of two periodical broods of cicadas. For those interested in the math, that’s billions (or

possibly trillions) of bugs. The merging involves the Great Southern Brood (otherwise known as Brood XIX), which appears every 13 years and will affect most of the southeastern United

States, and the Northern Illinois Brood (Brood XIII), which emerges every 17 years. States likely to be affected include Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky,

Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, North Carolina, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee, Wisconsin and Virginia. While some are calling the event “cicadapocalypse,” people should focus on it

as an “amazing, beautiful, entomological experience,” says Jonathan Larson, an extension entomologist and assistant professor at the University of Kentucky. Ed Reschke/Getty Images HOW DO

YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE CICADAS? You can't. But there are a couple of things to keep in mind: THEY CAN BE A DANGER TO YOUNG TREES Female egg-laying can cause some damage, says Cooley,

which “isn't really an issue for native hardwood trees (these cicadas have been part of our forests for millions of years), but the damage can affect orchards and tree nurseries.” He

suggests wrapping delicate trees in avian netting to encourage the females to go elsewhere. “We do not suggest using pesticides,” Cooley adds, “because the amounts needed would be hazardous,

and the ecological consequences unknowable." WHAT TO EXPECT DURING A PERIODICAL CICADA EMERGENCE Cicadas have been around for 250 million years, through all parts of the world,

succeeding with their sole goal: procreation. While that’s essentially the objective of all creatures, it’s very pointedly so for these single-minded bugs. The ritual begins with the cicada

nymphs crawling from the ground; they “know” to emerge by counting the annual cycles of the vegetation they feed on underground, says John Cooley, a cicada expert and professor in the

Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at the University of Connecticut. They immediately climb the nearest vertical structure, usually a tree, where they shed their exoskeleton.

That’s when their wings start to plump up and their soft, exposed body begins to harden. Larson breaks down the rest of the mating ritual this way. Male cicadas start to sing to recruit

other male cicadas. (“They’re sort of saying, ‘Hey, bros. Let’s get together; let’s make a band.’ ”) That larger group produces a chorus alerting female cicadas that they’re healthy and

ready to mate. When the females flock to the trees, they pair up with a male and listen to courtship songs. If a female accepts, she clicks her wings. The male dies, and the female flies

away to lay her eggs before also perishing. “It’s a huge party, basically — it’s lots of singing, hooking up,” says Larson. Of course, the adults don’t survive, so it’s also reminiscent, he

says, of a “macabre Mardi Gras.”