Director Jud's Blog

If you’ve been to camp in central Pennsylvania during certain summers, you may have heard a sound so intense, so otherworldly, that you rolled up your windows, cranked the AC, and still couldn’t escape it. That’s not your ears ringing after cheering too hard at the dance—those are cicadas, and this summer, they’ve made a grand entrance at Stone Mountain Adventures.

Cicadas (pronounced si-KAY-duhs) are some of the noisiest insects on the planet. This year, we're experiencing a rare natural event: the emergence of periodical cicadas, which spend most of their lives underground and only surface once every 13 or 17 years to mate. That’s right—some of the buzzing you hear today started as tiny nymphs burrowing underground when your camp counselor was still in elementary school.

The sound cicadas make is hard to describe—it's a high-pitched, pulsing rattle, like a thousand tiny maracas being shaken in unison. It rises and falls in waves, and when you're surrounded by them, it can almost feel like the air itself is vibrating. It’s the kind of noise you can hear inside your car, even with the windows shut and the air conditioning on full blast. At times, it’s as if the trees themselves have come alive and are singing a strange, ancient song.

But here’s the good news for our campers and families wondering if these bug-sized opera singers will keep us up at night: cicadas are daytime performers. As soon as the sun goes down, their chorus winds down too, and the peaceful nighttime symphony of crickets and owls takes over. So you’ll fall asleep to the sounds of nature, but not a cicada in sight—or sound.

Imagine for a moment what it must have been like to live in the pioneer days, before we understood what cicadas were. You’re out in the wilderness, and suddenly, the trees erupt with an eerie, invisible noise. You hear them, but you can’t see what’s making the sound. It would have felt mystical, even supernatural—like some forest spirit trying to communicate. No wonder ancient cultures had myths and legends about strange voices in the woods.

Thankfully, we have science now. We know that male cicadas are singing to attract mates using specialized organs called tymbals—kind of like built-in percussion instruments. We know their emergence is part of a delicate and fascinating life cycle. And we know they’re completely harmless. They don’t bite, they don’t sting, and they’re not interested in your food or your sleeping bag.

At SMA, we like to think of cicadas as one more reminder that nature is full of wonder and surprise. Sure, they’re loud. But they’re also miraculous. And in a summer already packed with adventure, climbing, paddling, and new friendships, their buzzing becomes part of the wild, joyful soundtrack of camp.

So if you're heading to SMA this summer, prepare to meet the loudest campers we’ve ever hosted—no name tags needed, and no quiet hours observed... until sunset, that is.