You can actually hear the end of summer if you listen closely. As August fades into September and we creep further into the month youll notice that something is missing, although it may not be dramatic. Often we loose ourselves in the bustle of the season as kids return to school, politicians crank up their rhetoric, and disorganized groups once again become organized. By the time we look up, the cicadas are gone.
Few people need to be introduced to the cicada. Although they may not be familiar with it by sight, they instantly raise eyebrows in recognition upon hearing their call. Cicadas are those loud buzz bugs that fill the sultry late summer air. Their ear shattering mechanical rasping call is one of those quintessential sounds that define a season. Cicadas do their thing during the hottest time of the year and are a good measure of the yearly cycle. Now that their time is waning, its a good time to stop and appreciate them before their time is up.
Yesterday I encountered one of these songsters. Pictured (here and here) is a nice example of a species known as the Dog Day Cicada at least I think it is. There are 155 kinds of these insects, so I have to admit that it could be a Linnes Cicada. Both are common in our area and both look pretty much alike. Sometimes, it just doesnt really matter. When I am old and gray I will take the time to count tymbal ridges and measure wing angles, but for now lets just pick one name and be darned with the consequences. I especially like the name of the Dog Day Cicada, so thats what Ill call it. The name refers to the Dog Days of Summer when it is most active. The Dog Days get their name from Sirius, the Dog Star, which is visible in the late summer constellation Canis major. Siriusly! This far more interesting than Mr. Linnes bug.
One thing that emerges from a close examination of these extraordinary bugs (and they are true bugs) is how beautifully made they are. I would not be the first to recognize this fact. Jewelers, especially in the Orient, have long depicted cicadas in all manner of elegant stone, ivory and precious metals. Take a look here at this magnificent modern design by Korean designer Wallace Chan and youll swear it will fly away. Dont swear, however, just gasp.
Most of our regional jewels emerge annually. The nymphs emerge out of the soil after a year or two of root sucking. They climb up the nearest tree and shed their skin to become flying insects. The empty nymphal skins last long after the bugs that emerged from them are gone (see here). There is always a new generation coming out of the soil every season, although they are staggered.
Periodical cicadas emerge once every 17 years. There was a hatch this year in S.W. Michigan, but I missed it. The next time well be able to get together to see these old timers in our area will not be until 2021 or 2024. By that time I will be busy with tymbal ridges and wing angles, although my eyesight will probably be shot. An annual cicada, such as my example, will do just fine.
All cicadas have a car grill for a face (see here). In fact they look very much like an Edsel or something of that vintage. Youll also notice that long piercing beak for sucking tree sap a habit they do not shed with their last skin. Those of you that remember Edsels, by the way, are probably already old and gray and might be contemplating some tymbal ridge research. Maybe I should explain my fixation with that terminology, lest I lead you astray.
Cicadas have achieved the level of the worlds loudest insect by their sheer instrumental prowess. The males sing by using two ridged organs membranes really called Tymbals. These membranes are located under the wings on the first segment of the abdomen. By counting the number of ridges (usually 8 or so) you can tell species apart, but you can do the same thing by listening to the distinctive drumming calls produced by those membranes. Each species has a slightly different version of Wipeout.
The sound is produced by popping the tymbals in and out. Superfast muscles attached to the center of each drum act to pull them in and allow them to pop back out as much as 50 times per second! Since a goodly portion of the abdomen is hollow, the effect is resonated to ear-splitting intensity. Take a look at this diagram and I think it will help you see this internal arrangement. The caller can even increase or decrease the intensity of the call by opening a pair of flaps called operculums.
It is worth noting that the term superfast is not mine, but a term used by researchers who are studying cicada muscles. They are attempting to learn how these tiny fibers can achieve a pull reaction fully 50 times faster than our muscles and how they do it without tiring. If their research pans out into a usable human application, I might be able to do more than one push up per minute.
As a general rule, any animal that is a good talker is usually a good listener as well. Male cicadas use all this tympanal energy to attract females. The females do not talk, but instead concentrate on listening skills. They detect the love drum melody through a pair of smooth tympana close to the wing pits.
As a human male, I find it singularly amazing that there are some females out there that listen more than they talk, but will not pursue that angle of thought. I will, however, leave you with a fascinating feature of the male cicada. Males, you see, also have big ears. They need them in order to pick up rival calls. How is it, then, that loud mouthed males dont make themselves deaf? They lose their ability to hear when they are talking.
Yes, when a male cicada begins his call (a 15 second buzz saw, in the case of the Dog Day Cicada) the tympana become creased and so they cant hear themselves. Im not so sure thats an exclusively cicada trait, guys.
Im sorry, I didnt hear what you said?
Once Upon A Michigan 
