By Jeff Cantrell, photos courtesy of the Missouri Dept. Of Conservation
Shell collecting in the Ozarks when I was a kid had a whole different context than most youth would think of today. When twilight came, kids commenced preparing jars with hole-punched lids for activities centered on lightning bugs, and margarine bowls for collecting cicada shells. I remember marveling at the shed “shells” which were actually a shed exoskeleton of the insect, cicada. Now that I’m versed in science and science education, I suppose those cicada leftovers provided some of the first opportunities for a five-year-old child’s critical thinking. Educators realize this sort of inquiry leads to the heart of a scientific method.
I remember serious deduction on what made those shells: How did that entire insect fit in there with its wide head and bulging eyes? Plus, the intact exoskeleton of legs, face and eyes were fascinating for a fledgling naturalist. Sheer jackpot scientific inspections took place on those extraordinary occasions when the genuine live cicada was found on a lower part of tree trunk. Here a youth could witness the performance at eye-level and literally watch it crawl out of its skin.
Healthy adult cicadas travel to the treetops (except the prairie species) and males will resonate in a buzzing nighttime concert to attract and impress the females. Only the males sing, and their insect chorus is an iconic nocturnal summer sound. They, along with various katydids, tree crickets and species of grasshoppers, lend their calls and vibrations to the summertime Ozark symphony.
The female cicadas later cut small slits into twigs and egg-laying takes place up in the tree canopy. Sometimes twigs droop or fall to the ground resulting from egg laying, and the fleeting state of the tree may be referred to as “flagging.” Flagging simply exhibits to the young scientists that the native trees are part of the ecosystem. In turn, the native insects will be an important part of the local food webs linking the bats, songbirds, skinks, and flying squirrels for their continued survival. Rarely are trees considerably harmed for a long period of time.
Two extraordinary aspects of a cicada’s life history are: 1) the buzzing communication song and 2) their livelihood beyond our view, literally underground. After the possible flagging of the trees the cicada eggs hatch into small nymphs and the ant sized insects fall to the ground. There, they burrow in the subsoil feeding on various rootlets. Amazingly, depending on the species, they grow and have periods of rest for 1 to 17 years in this nymph stage before digging up out of the ground. Here they climb the tree trunks and shed their exoskeleton. Summertime is when they emerge and underwrite an important part of the midsummer ecology of our forest.
The “buzz” informs us they are part of nature’s woodland nutrient recycling systems and bring needed protein to many young birds, reptiles and small mammals. A child’s nature treasure box may hold a few shells and for most of us the “buzz” is a pleasing sound of summer. I think nighttime is a marvelous time for us naturalists; we see the stars clearer in the winter and enjoy the insect music during the warm months. Perhaps the dark hours should be thought of not as the absence of daylight, but the other realm for creation to play out their extraordinary lives.
Enjoy the buzz of nature on the trail and in your backyard. – Jeff
J. Cantrell is an outdoor educator and local source for teachers to obtain quality environmental education materials and seek advanced learning. Jeff.cantrell@mdc.mo.gov