It was early morning on April 29 when Jakob Dwight ’s grandmother, Valeria Richards Maye, died in Alabama. It was that day, too, when he heard the cicadas sing near her home and it comforted him.
“I don’t know in the event that they were out a number of nights before,” he said. “I didn’t hear them the night before.”
It felt like some form of connection to his grandmother: Describing the sound as almost like a ray-gun in a science-fiction movie or a skinny metallic sheet rippling, Mr. Dwight said in an interview on Wednesday that he felt touched listening to the droning “in the best way that if people lose a loved one, they have an inclination to have magical experiences or at the least imbue things in nature with form of that spirit of the loved one.” He would go on to record the cicadas’ song the day after her funeral.
This spring, as two broods of cicadas emerge in a rare simultaneous event to supply a sound as loud as an airplane’s, Americans are feeling connected to nature and rejoicing — or covering their ears — as they take heed to the song of their backyards.
While some find the buzzes, chirps and trills soothing or exciting, for others, the bugs are annoying or irritating. In a single South Carolina county, residents even called the sheriff to report the strange, thunderous roaring.
“These periodical cicada songs are magical,” said Wil Hershberger, a co-author of the book “The Songs of Insects.” “They’re only heard when a brood emerges, and so they are distinctly different from other annual cicada songs that we will hear every 12 months.”
This 12 months, the slight overlap of two broods makes them much more so. “In some locations, the unique convergence of 13-year songs and 17-year songs creates a really extraordinary auditory experience,” he said.
Among the many 17-year-cycle cicadas, often known as Brood XIII, Mr. Hershberger said, there are three species, each with its own distinct and charming song.
Probably the most quite a few might be the Magicicada septendecim, he said, “with its awesome wee-oo song.” That species also has a singular mating song. “These enthusiastic, energetic songs appear to be liked by the females,” Mr. Hershberger said.
There’s also M. septendecula, communicating in a “quite unique” song that consists of “a series of high-pitched buzzes that turn out to be more rapid after which end in a series of chirp-like sounds.” Then there’s the M. cassini, whose song is a ticking that becomes an upward buzz.
For the 13-year-cycle cicada species, Brood XIX, which cover essentially the most ground this 12 months, John R. Cooley, a biology professor on the University of Connecticut, said some songs are just like the 17-year-cycle insects.
On the whole, the songs of the Magicicada tredecula species are rhythmic frequency sweeps, while the songs of the Magicicada tredecassini species are a series of ticks followed by a frequency sweep, Professor Cooley said. He also noted that species might be energetic at different times of day.
Male cicadas generally sing to mate (while female cicadas respond with the flick of a wing) using a special organ called a tymbal, Mr. Hershberger said, which has a covering like the top of a drum, and one might be found on both sides of the forward abdomen. The male cicada uses a robust muscle to tug them in, causing the membranes to collapse along ridges and creating the sound.
Cicadas are the loudest singing insects on Earth, Mr. Hershberger said, noting that “individuals can produce sounds within the 90 decibel range — that’s as loud as a jet engine.”
“In the event you are going to be near a chorus of males in full song, I might wear earplugs to guard your hearing,” Mr. Hershberger said.
In Cicadas 2024, a public Facebook group with greater than 10,000 members, users have remarked on the humming roar, describing it as endearing or deafening.
The excitement and chirps of periodical cicadas are nothing recent — those sounds have long inspired artists and musicians.
Mr. Dwight, a painter and artist who uses sound elements in his work, is unsure how he’ll use his recordings of Alabama cicadas. He sees himself as “a naturalist who’s aiming to assist bring out the magic of the experience of nature.”
He imagines whatever he creates can be “on the poetic, the grieving side.”
The emergence of Brood X in 1970 inspired Bob Dylan’s “Day of the Locusts,” through which he wrote that “the locusts sang such a sweet melody.” In 2021, the pop star Lorde said in an interview with Apple Music that she recorded cicadas to assist capture the sensation of a Latest Zealand summer for her song “Solar Power.”
Some find the buzzing sounds to be meditative.
On meditation apps, including Insight Timer, a well-liked free meditation app that has been downloaded 28 million times, recorded cicada sounds help people connect with nature. Insight Timer has 19 tracks in its meditation and sound library that feature the sound of cicadas, said Maddy Gerrard, the app’s editor in chief.
Jonathan Adams, a musician often known as Sonic Yogi who records therapeutic music and meditations, said in an email that he uses bird and bug sounds in his meditation audio “because they signal different cycles of the day and the seasons.”
“These are naturally indicators of those energy shifts within the day,” he said, which may also help cue the rhythms within the body.
However it’s not all songs and sound baths: The red-eyed insects could be a real nuisance to some.
In South Carolina, the Newberry County Sheriff’s Office posted a notice on social media after several residents complained “a couple of noise within the air that seems like a siren, or a whine, or a roar.”
“The sound is cicadas,” the sheriff’s office said, noting that “although to some, the noise is annoying, they pose no danger to humans or pets. Unfortunately it’s the sounds of nature.”
Derek Kinkade, the chief meteorologist for the ABC affiliate in Columbus, Ga., used his Facebook page to ask people to stop calling the police on the cicadas.
“We’ve done 100 stories and posts on them from winter to now,” he said. “Other news sources have too. It’s bugs. The sound is bugs.”
For some, the sound might be overstimulating. Neurodivergent children and adults, including individuals with autism, may find cicadas’ incessant droning less memorable as a sound of summer and more like a waking nightmare.
Dr. Nathan Carroll, associate chief resident psychiatrist at Jersey Shore University Medical Center, said those with decreased sound tolerance, also often known as auditory sensitivity, can find the constant trilling overwhelming.
Dr. Carroll said that of about 5.5 million individuals with autism in the USA, it’s estimated that between 60 and 90 percent have auditory sensitivity. To assist those experiencing discomfort, he suggested taking them inside and drowning out the noise with the TV or giving them earplugs or headphones to make use of. “Don’t minimize it,” he said. “Validate it as much as possible.”
For those without auditory sensitivity, remember there are a number of weeks left on this rare dual emergence.
Mr. Hershberger recommends that if you happen to can, you need to “loosen up, listen, and revel in this rare sonic treasure.”
