They march out of the ground a mighty throng. In multitudes of more than a million and a half per acre, they reach plague-like proportions. Among the most familiar of all insects in eastern North America, they are the periodical cicadas. Insects grab our attention for lots of reasons, both good and bad. Honeybees delight us with sweetness; butterflies entrance us with beauty; wasps frighten us with pain; lightning bugs glow in the dark; and praying mantises are just big, cool-looking predators.
What about cicadas? Well, they're biggish bugs, but they don't sting or glow or devastate crops or produce honey, and they're certainly not rare. What's fascinating about periodical cicadas is their sheer numbers and the mysterious timing of their emergence from hiding.
The Hidden Hordes
Young periodical cicadas, or nymphs, spend years not more than two feet under our two feet, down among the roots of trees in our shady yards and parks. What are they doing down there? God designed all cicadas with straw-like mouthparts. The underground nymphs seek out tree roots, poke in their proboscises, and suck up the sugary sap. After five instars (periods between molts), a massive army of teenage cicadas crawl out of their tidy burrows right on schedule.
[Read the rest of the article at Answers in Genesis.]