September 23, 2009 - Ree-Aah-Ree-Aah

     Some people believe, and I am one of them, that the State Bird of North Carolina should be the cicada. I have no dislike for the Cardinal and I certainly believe they are nice enough birds but the Cicada is more prevalent, has more of a song, is present for long periods of time even before you see or hear it, and when it is out and about is one of the most “in your face” critters I have ever known.
Cicadas are pretty common. You can find them in Greece, Australia, China, Korea, in desserts, tropical paradises, and the north woods. Cicadas are everywhere and they are everywhere loud. They are remarkable as possibly the longest living insect (out lived only by the termite queen) and they are the loudest animal, per pound, in the world.
     The Robin may be a harbinger of spring and when we see the Robin we know warm weather is coming. But when we see and hear the cicada we know that we had better grab all the summer we can, for autumn is just around the bend. One common variety of cicada is the “Dogday Harvestfly,” since they appear during the dog days of summer (when it is so hot you want to crawl under the car for some shade) and just at the beginning of harvest time (when farm life becomes the busiest).
And did I say they were loud. The chirp of the male cicada looking for a female mate has been described as a 12-inch chain saw cutting through a 24-inch dried oak stump Their squawk is a whine that rises and falls in pitch, a synchronized buzzing, and the model for the European police siren (reee-aaah-reee-aaah). Their abdominal cacophony of sounds repel birds, their natural enemies, and has caused a few humans to go insane. The cicadas’ constant chorus is the “boom, boom, boom car” of the insect world. Their whir is nothing more than a loud muffler on the car of an available young male. It takes the cicada most of their lifetime to get their songs all in tune and harmonized just in time for them to die after being an adult for no more than 14 days.
     Some call the cicadas the 14-year locust since some types live as an adolescent for 14 years while nursing underground on tree sap. Other species live in the ground for only a few years. But whether we agree or not, the cicada mimics the human being by acting like an adolescent the great majority of their life (up to 14 years) and becoming an adult only for a few moments (no more than 2 weeks).
     You hardly ever see a cicada, unless one is found dead on the ground. The adult cicadas spend most of their life atop trees, but you find evidence of them in the “pork rind”-like nymphal skins they leave affixed to the sides of trees as they emerge from adolescence to adults.
     I like cicadas. I cannot remember late summer life without them. They are a part of my seasonal ritual. But for all of us, the cicada reminds us of some pretty important lessons. They remind us that life is short and we had better be up and about while in it. They remind us that being a novice adolescent most of your life is OK and that it is all a learning episode with juvenile mistakes being expected. They remind us that making noise to get what you want is a part of life and we should speak up when we have something to say. Most of all the cicada reminds us that it is time to get up, get busy, and do whatever it is that we think is so important to do. Life is short. We get only one chance. Winter is coming. This is our time and our opportunity.
     The cicada reminds me that I must immediately prepare, order my life, take inventory of my failings, and weaknesses, stand up for causes I believe are important, and as Mark the Gospel writer would say “straightway” remember that there is more to life than what I can see and know now. The Cicada is John the Baptist singing a song declaring, “Prepare,” for the time is short!
Rev. Dan Martin is pastor of First UMC, Hendersonville. He can be reached at moose1953@hotmail.com