Have you noticed the absence of cicadas this year? I’ve found a few mummified bug body shells but have missed their crazy, almost hysterical noise. Where are they? The grind of these summer insects is like a summer soundtrack to me. It seems like their volume increases with the heat of the sun. But this year, while there have been plenty of blazing days, other than an occasional cicada buzz, it’s been silent. Nothing like the raucousness of past summers. Are they missing everywhere? I walk at the beach, visit other friends’ yards and don’t hear them. I guess summer will be closing out without a choral farewell.
I did a computer search: ‘Where are the cicadas this year 2026’ and turned up all sorts of sites dedicated to cicadas. I love how some humans become obsessed with things like cicadas, study them, maybe they even get a PHD in cicadas. My interest is just a passing one, but I am grateful for dedicated people more obsessed than me who then share their knowledge on sites we can easily access.
Turns out, cicadas, like locusts, have cycles. Thirteen years for cicadas. The ones I heard this summer are called ‘stragglers’. And even their emergence can be predicted – these ones that miss the schedule and emerge when they’re not supposed to. That’s who I’ve been hearing – stragglers. I love them even more now, those little rebels turning up when they’re not supposed to. By the way, we can report on them to help with mapping. If you’re curious, check out this site: Cicada Safari. This is where I learned that – “Our next major emergence of the periodical cicadas will start in late April and early May 2027, when the 13-year Brood XXII will emerge.”
Like most cicadas, I seem to have gone underground this summer. I often find myself hiding from the heat and sun. Perhaps because I no longer work so being outdoors is available to me 7 days a week, Yet I don’t feel compelled to get outside, even to kayak. I did not pay for a rack at the beach this year so I am not worried about getting my money’s worth. My plastic boat mostly gathers dust in the garage. Don’t get me wrong – I still love summer and kayaking, I’ve just been lazy and not loving the heat. Do you?
I get up early and do things while it’s cooler. My home and community garden plots appreciate early morning visits and I like how my feet get wet in the morning dew. I also go walking in the evening. It is lovely at the beach. The crowds have mostly cleared out by then. That is except for families so large they need to drag over extra tables. It looks like they’ve been there all day – someone’s napping in a hammock tied between two trees, shivering toddlers swaddled in towels after splashing in the Sound. Always, delicious smelling smoke fills the air from barbecues. They’re still there when the sun is down and the beach lights start to come on.
I sit on my porch a lot – reading, napping, chatting with friends. The breeze in the front of the house is usually better, but right now, I’m sitting in the back with an umbrella casting shade onto the table where I write. These days I’m barefoot almost all the time, wandering inside and outside the house, the screen door slamming behind me. This afternoon, there are no biting bugs. Not yet – and that seems miraculous. Bees and a few monarch butterflies float by, hovering briefly over the two flowering bushes that frame this little deck. In the distance, I hear the complaint of a bluejay, the yap of a dog along with the constant traffic hum. The highway noise I could do without but otherwise, I like these summer sounds. It’s all kind of perfect. Except for the missing cicadas. I will be listening hard to welcome Brood XXII next year.
How’s your summer been?