*Opinions

Dear Cicadas,

I have a few questions: what’s it like being the least popular insect on Earth? Do you enjoy tormenting humans? I hope so because if there’s no reason for your noisy invasion, I might just lose my mind. This year, my yard was so overrun by y’all that I couldn’t even see the grass. I could hear you all walking around. Cicadas, you’re the worst. You’re loud, destructive and we detest you. From your screams to your tree-burrowing antics, you’ve made our lives far more stressful, so I’m calling you little monsters out on it.

Speaking of monsters, I used to think banshees were just myths. You’ve proved me wrong. It’s hard enough to relax in 100-degree heat but you make it impossible with your 100-decibel screeches. You’re loud enough to cause real hearing damage and elevate our stress levels, turning “quiet time” into a noisy nightmare. And don’t even try to argue that you’re providing ambiance—ambiance doesn’t make you go deaf. It calms you, but you do quite the opposite.

Besides the auditory assault, you’re a genuine threat to nature. When female cicadas lay eggs, they split wood, damaging young trees and shrubs. This leads to “flagging” where branches wilt and die. Farmers and gardeners dread your arrival because you ruin their hard work. Plus, the damage you cause leaves trees open to diseases, like putting bacteria in a wound. These wounds get infected, though, leading to the tree’s death.

With illness in mind, let’s talk about how your mass emergence makes biblical plagues look insignificant. Billions of you coming out at once throw the ecosystem out of balance. If you were to emerge gradually, birds and plants might adapt to your frustrating habits. But with your annual mass exodus, predators overpopulate. This imbalance, while temporary, is detrimental to the food chain, and it can cause some lasting effects.

I have to admit, you have an uncanny talent for showing up where you’re least wanted. You invade homes and cars causing widespread panic. Your numbers and persistence make you impossible to keep out, especially with your strange habit of flying into people’s hair. In cities, the cost of keeping you away falls on taxpayers and those who pay to clean you out. So, not only are you annoying but you also cost money.

One last thing: why do you exist in the first place? At least pests like mosquitoes pollinate, but you all just exist. Sure, you’re interesting in some ways—your resurrection is an environmental marvel—but you’re still a nuisance. That being said, at least you’re in the mud again. Feel free to stay underground a little longer this time, we’re in no rush to welcome you back.