It was late August, and I was in central Iowa on a recording trip. I wandered into a cornfield, and at the back of it was a creek, surrounded by cottonwood trees. The trees were filled with 17-year cicadas.

The life cycle of these critters is a testament to the magic of life. Shortly after they hatch from the eggs laid by their mothers, the nymphs burrow into the ground, where they stay for 17 years. When they emerge, the clock starts ticking, because from that moment onward, they have about six weeks to live, during which time they mate, lay eggs, and start the cycle once again.

They also sing. As I stand here, headphones on my head, I can almost hear them saying, “17 years I waited for this. Mate? Absolutely. Lay eggs? Sure. But first? A little music.”

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