The Commons

They’re Back!

With the return of the 17-year cicada and the annual infestation of the spotted lanternfly, Queen Village is going buggy this summer.

By Karyl Weber

Insects are putting on a show for us in 2021. First to take the stage were the cicadas, but their performance was as brief as it was noisy. Longer and more concerning has been our sightings of the Spotted Lanternfly, a non-native insect that is spreading and doing harm to trees, plants, and crops.

Cicadas

Nowhere in the world apart from the central and eastern United States experiences “periodical” cicadas, and in 2021 is their year to emerge in Pennsylvania.

That so many billions of them reliably coordinate a 17-year breeding cycle (13 in the case of a small subgroup) is quite a trick of chronometry. The nymph phase has survived those intervening years underground, feeding from tree roots. In the target year, when spring soil temperatures reach 64 degrees, they emerge en masse at night and make a slow dash for the treetops. Along the way they shed their youthful exoskeletons, which you’ll see abandoned as light brown empty shells, and emerge in a new shape with wings.

Males, who make the classic undulating buzzing sound, appear first but die off soon after mating. Those that remain are mostly the much quieter females laying eggs.

Cicadas lack the protections that other insects use: They don’t bite or sting or have toxins or great camouflage. Big as they are, they’re an ideal meal for almost any bird or animal. (If you’re feeling adventurous, you can find a trove of recipes for dining on cicadas yourself!) Vulnerability explains the cicadas’ bizarre life cycle. Abundant after such a prolonged absence, their supply overwhelms demand by their predators, so enough of them escape to reproduce.

Spotted Lanternflies

Throughout the summer, we’ll be contending with Spotted Lanternflies, and despite their interesting spots and fuchsia underwings, we must try to stamp out this invader.

The most efficient approach is to recognize and destroy the egg cases over winter, but that opportunity has passed for the time being—keep it in mind this autumn. In their youthful form in springtime, as small bugs with white polka dots on either a black or red-and-black background, they don’t move very fast. In summer, you’ll have to choose your tactics against the adults.

If you’re speedy, you can step on or swat the adult. It tends to fly distances of eight to 10 feet at a time and takes a moment to prepare for a new leap. Lanternflies launch themselves forward, so an alternate trick is to hold the mouth of a container in front of one, then startle it and slap on the lid. Don’t try sticky traps: They don’t work well against these pests but do kill beneficial bugs.

If you own a tree that is a favorite of lanternflies and you’re feeling crafty, you could replicate a trap that earned a girl from Harleysville a science award. It involves a narrow shield taped around the tree trunk, with just one gap that leads

SWQV Community Gardener (and beekeeper) Adam Hauptman scrapes off lanternfly egg cases high up in the garden’s magnolia tree.

The life cycle of a lanternfly (clockwise from top left): Egg mass; late-stage (with red patches) and earlystage nymphs (black with white spots); and adult with wings spread. (U.S. Department of Agriculture)

upward into a mesh bag—the lanternflies become trapped and starve because they only move upward, while other bugs escape out the bottom. (See her solution at bit.ly/QVNA_lanternfly.)

If you’re sitting under lanternflies, you may feel little drops like raindrops falling because they feed on sap and often excrete sprays of liquid. An odd bit of trivia is that bees enjoy this excretion, so you may see some novelty honey sold this season that is labeled as “lanternfly flavored.”

A final caution if you’re planning a long road trip this summer, check carefully when loading gear into your car, because transporting lanternflies can expand their geographic range. ■