Here in the Hudson Valley, we are experiencing cicada season. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this little creature, it is a large insect that spends most of its life below ground. After several years, the adult cicadas emerge and spend 4-6 weeks above ground before laying eggs for the next cicada cycle, and then dying off. The males “sing” for their mates, which creates a buzzing or humming noise that can be very loud and intrusive. We haven’t had too much cicada noise where we live in Northern Dutchess County, but when we were across the Hudson River near New Paltz last weekend and driving through wooded areas, they were almost deafening.
The fascinating thing about this particular cicada strain is that they hibernate underground for seventeen years. SEVENTEEN YEARS. My husband has been talking about them for awhile now, and he couldn’t believe that I didn’t remember the last time they were here, which was 1996. It was the summer between ninth and tenth grades, and I think the reason I don’t remember them is because I spent most of that summer in treatment for my thyroid cancer. Cancer trumps cicada, I suppose. Then it occurred to my husband and me that the next time the cicadas come to the Hudson Valley, our baby Edwin, who currently can neither talk nor walk, will be… get this…. GRADUATING HIGH SCHOOL. (God willing). (My husband said, “We’ll have to find an indoor location for his graduation party.”)
It puts things in perspective, doesn’t it? Every time the cicadas come back, the world has changed completely. The last time the cicadas were here, 9/11 had not yet happened. People were still listening to music on Walkmans instead of iPods, and leaving messages on home answering machines instead of calling cell phones. After previous hibernations, the cicadas emerged to find a world changed by war, broadened by technology, and expanded by exploration. They missed the moon landing, Pearl Harbor, and the Great Depression.
What do you hope the cicadas find when they emerge next time, in 2030? I hope that this time, instead of missing a war or a terrorist attack, they’ve jumped over peace accords and countries working toward solving global problems. I hope that the technology we’ve developed helps us cure diseases and eradicate famine. I hope that we’ve combatted global warming and successfully explored space.
As for me, the next time the cicadas come, I’ll be 48. That still seems pretty young to me. I hope I’m a good mother and wife. I hope my family is healthy and happy. I hope I’ve continued to grow in my chosen career. I hope I’m content with the progress I’ve made, and excited about things to come. I’m not going to stop thinking about any of those goals. Because seventeen years goes by in the blink of an eye.
Or the buzz of a cicada.