the 13 year cicada...

....is a completely bizarre creature. Science cannot explain why these insects, commonly mistaken for locusts, emerge in masses from the ground every 13 or 17 years. Unlike the less interesting, average brown cicadas that appear every year, 13 and 17 year cicadas are black with red eyes and translucent wings. Once the cicadas finish tunneling out of the ground, they attach themselves to nearby vegetation and begin the process of molting, leaving behind a visible brown case. Your location determines whether you get the 13 or 17 year cicada.

Lucky Illinois….we get both!

But really, we are lucky. Because even though we get to experience both varieties of these lovely little fellas, we don’t experience cicada swarms that number in the thousands, like our sister states to the south. Heck, I haven’t even seen one yet…although I did find a cicada shell on a tree the other day. And even if your eyes don’t see them, your ears hear them…wherever you go. It’s hard to mistake the shrill, screeching of the 13 year cicadas for anything other than the desperate mating call of a poor insect who only gets to see the light of day for a few short weeks. And to think that those weeks are spent molting, finding a mate, and laying eggs. No fun at all.

When you think about it, they really are fascinating. Thirteen years ago, I was eight. I vaguely remember having a contest with Jenn to see which one of us could find the most cicada shells on the trees in the backyard. I most likely won. She was only five, and knowing my eight-year-old self, I bet I didn’t tell her what a cicada shell was or how to find it. The conversation probably went like this:

Me: Hey Jenna, wanna have a contest?

Jenn (excitedly): Yes! I do, I do! What is the contest?

Me: We’re gonna see who can find the most cicada shells.

Jenn (scratching her head; it was a bad habit she had in her younger years): What’s a ci...ci...cicada, Jessie? And why does it have shells?

Me (already running): On your mark, get set, GO!

Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what happened. And after we had rounded up a bunch, I also vaguely remember making rows and rows of them on our front porch. Like a cicada army or something. That’s the thing about those silly 13 and 17 year cicadas….you don’t just find one or two. You find enough to take on every branch of the British military.

On a serious note, though, it is fascinating to think about. While a cicada larvae was feeding on delicious sap from the roots of trees a foot below me, I was taking piano lessons, riding horses, traveling the country, playing volleyball, getting my first job, starting high school. While the cicada was buried under dirt and rocks and grass, I was buried under piles of homework and papers and tests. The very same cicada was still underground feeding on that same sap when I graduated high school, went on my first mission trip, moved away to college, and won my first writing contest. And just a few weeks ago, while I was digging myself out of finals week and moving home, the 13 year cicada was tunneling its way out of the only home it had ever known. After it emerges, the cicada only has a few weeks to experience 'life'. In comparison, I have as many days, months, and years as God has planned for me.

Really.

It’s bizarre.

Especially when you think about all the things you’ve done in the past 13 years.

13 years seems like an eternity.

And to spend 12 ¾ of them (or 16 ¾, if you're the unlucky 17 year cicada) underground?

AWFUL.

Sure makes me glad I’m a human. :)

After doing a little bit of research on these (shy?) little bugs, I learned that in other countries, cicadas are eaten. A delicacy. Ew. I’m all about embracing other cultures, but I find all insects disgusting, and the thought of eating them makes me nauseous. (Nope, I don’t need anyone to tell me how many spiders I’ll swallow while I’m sleeping in my lifetime….lol) I guess eating them is one way to get rid of the painfully loud, swarming intruders. Not the route I would have chosen (hello, pesticide!) but to each his own. I even stumbled onto this yummy little recipe for anyone who’s brave enough to catch (and then EAT!) the 13 year cicada. Maybe it has more flavor than the annual variety?

You tell me.

Cicada Pie

2 pie pastries, slightly thawed

50 female cicadas

1 pint of cream

About 2 cups of stale bread or bread crumbs

1 tsp rhubarb flavor

Soak the cicadas, bread, cream and rhubarb flavor in a bowl until softened. Prepare the pie crust. Add the cicada mixture. Lattice the second pie crust over the cicada mixture. Cook at 350 degrees until golden brown (about 11 to 14 minutes).

And don’t worry….if you did miss the 13 year cicada, the 17 year cicada will be making its appearance in 2021. So you will have plenty of time to collect more cicada recipes and prepare for the arrival! Until then, you’re stuck enjoying the boring annual cicadas. 

Which should be emerging any day now. :)

from Jess, with love<3

always