Rhythm of the Cicada
Do you have any idea how difficult it is to photograph a cicada? I’ve been chasing these noisy insects around for weeks, and to no avail. How quickly I felt outsmarted! Each time I’d approach a bush or tree – abuzz with the distinctive cicada cacophony – I’d get very close, scanning and scanning, yet seeing nothing.

One of thousands of cicadas along the San Pedro riverbed in southern Arizona. Click photo to enlarge.
They’d toy with me. A sharp “buzz,” then silence. Another “buzz,” then silence. One even flew into my ear when I was on the four-wheeler, heading to my “Cicada Rendezvous” by the river. Talk about taunting (and did I mention, Ouch? They’re pretty darn big when they bounce off an ear hole!). And one day, during a jog, one of them let off this offensive screeching noise low to the ground as I ran by. Let’s just say that it startled me so much, I did an in-the-air-cartoon dust cloud. I think I was levitating.
So, yes … I wanted to photograph these elusive, ornery bugs. My fascination was also influenced by the fact that I appreciate their ‘wit.’ Plus, it’s pretty impressive that they can live underground for most of the year, feeding on roots – only to emerge from holes in May or June in droves, filling the desert days and nights with song. The first trill of a cicada – to me, at least – means that Arizona’s overbearing summer heat has arrived. And the trees that get a natural pruning each year, as a result, seem none the worse for wear (the females cut slits into branches to deposit eggs; then the branches fall off – at the outer tips of a limb – the eggs falling to the ground. Repeat the cycle.).
So while I jest about the cicada’s elusive qualities and wit, the reality is that when the end of August nears and the cicadas crawl back into the ground, the desert will be a bit less noisy. And, admittedly, I’ll miss those ornery insects.
Listen to the sounds of Arizona’s cicadas on the video below, then, writers, scroll for tips.
For Writers:
How would you describe what you hear in the above video? Is the sound reminiscent of the rattle of a rattlesnake? The vigorous shaking of maracas? My description: the sound was so intense, so nearly deafening, that when I spoke, I was sure I was slurring my speech. It felt like my S’es were coming out all wrong, blended in so perfectly with the hiss of the cicadas that even I couldn’t tell if I’d spoken them … Really, it was that loud. The audio doesn’t really do the scenario justice, unfortunately. But use your imagination!