Nature: Brood X will bring out black-billed and yellow-billed cuckoos who feast on cicadas

 

A black-billed cuckoo in northern Michigan, where it is common/Jim McCormac

Nature: Brood X will bring out black-billed and yellow-billed cuckoos who feast on cicadas

The Columbus Dispatch
May 30, 2021

NATURE
Jim McCormac

In my last column, I wrote about the impending eruption of Brood X 17-year cicadas. They’re in full cacophonous swing now. If you live in an emergence area, you know. Depending on one’s outlook, the cicadas are annoying pests or a rare opportunity to witness one of nature’s greatest entomological spectacles.

The black-billed cuckoo would take the latter viewpoint. Cuckoos are voracious cicada predators and take full advantage of emergences such as Brood X.

Cuckoos are fascinating and poorly understood birds. Two species occur in Ohio: the aforementioned black-billed cuckoo, and the more common and wide-ranging yellow-billed cuckoo. Although they look like songbirds, cuckoos do not belong to the giant order Passeriformes, which includes songbirds. They are much more closely related to owls.

While yellow-billed cuckoos nest commonly statewide, black-billeds are most frequent in the northern third of the state, but even there are outnumbered by the former.

Brood X should turn that distribution and abundance status on its ear this year. Black-billed cuckoos — yellow-billeds, too — converge on cicada emergences in big numbers. It’s as if the birds have their own Nextdoor app to clue them in. The mechanisms that allow them to locate cicada emergences is not understood.

One would think that a bird that’s bigger than a robin would be easy to study. Not so. Cuckoos are quite secretive and given to skulking in dense vegetation. Their loud, distinctive calls are often the only evidence of their presence.

Even at the late spring date of this column, cuckoos are still arriving. They have a long trip to get here. Black-billed cuckoos winter in western South America, from Colombia south into Peru. Next to nothing is known of cuckoos in their tropical haunts.

In 2016, when periodic cicada Brood V emerged over much of eastern Ohio, I was stunned at cuckoo numbers. It seemed that everywhere I stopped, cuckoos of both species would be calling. In areas where the black-billed cuckoo would normally be unusual, they were commonplace.

Billions of easily captured, six-legged flying steaks make for easy pickings, and small wonder cuckoos capitalize on the bounty. They are well-known for exploiting caterpillar outbreaks, too, and when food is plentiful breeding success spikes.

Food outbreaks can trigger an unusual behavior in cuckoo reproduction: brood parasitism. Ample nutrition allows female cuckoos to produce an excess of eggs. They’ll dump some in other birds’ nests, in the hopes that the unwitting hosts will raise the cuckoos. Host species include American robin, chipping sparrow and gray catbird. Sometimes even yellow-billed cuckoos fall victim.

Our cuckoos seemed to have evolved with insect booms, especially those of caterpillars and cicadas. Feathered nomads, they congregate where the outbreaks occur. Unfortunately, natural insect cycles are not what they used to be.

Naturalists described “flocks” of cuckoos descending on insect emergences in the late 1800s. No one sees such numbers these days — there are far fewer cuckoos. Ill-devised “pest” management and massive alterations to forested habitats have wrought havoc on natural insect cycles, including periodic cicadas. The animals that evolved to exploit these booms, thus providing natural controls, have also been greatly reduced in number.

But for cuckoos in the Brood X zone there will be food aplenty, and hopefully scores of little cuckoos will result.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

17-year brood of cicadas becomes feast for Ohio birds

A periodical cicada, photographed in Ross County

Columbus Dispatch

August 7, 2016

NATURE
Jim McCormac

William Bradford, a five-time governor of Plymouth Colony in Massachusetts, was perhaps the first European to describe one of the world’s most incredible insect irruptions.

In 1633, the Pilgrims had been in the New World for 13 years and probably thought they had learned much about their adopted land. Surprises still waited.

That year saw the emergence of a brood of 17-year periodical cicadas in the Plymouth area. Bradford wrote the following in his "Of Plymouth Plantation," which documented early Pilgrim life: “ ... all the month of May, there was such a quantity of a great sort of flyes like for bignesss to wasps or bumblebees, which came out of holes in the ground … and ate green things, and made such a constant yelling noise as made all the woods ring of them, and ready to deaf the hearers.”

Periodical cicadas are far better understood today than in Bradford’s time. It took time to sort out the complex life cycle of these strange bugs, though. Nearly two centuries after the Pilgrims’ cicada encounter, Dr. Samuel Hildreth of Marietta, Ohio, began to ferret out the mysteries of these mostly subterranean insects.

Today, scientists have largely unraveled the mysteries of periodical cicadas. They spend almost their entire existence underground feeding on sap from tree roots. After 17 years, the nymph cicadas drill to the surface and transform into adults. The males then proceed to sing, creating the din that attracts so much attention.

The six-legged horde lasts a little longer than a month, beginning in late May and culminating in females depositing eggs within tree branches. These branches eventually drop to the ground, and the fledgling nymphs bore into the ground.

The periodic outbreaks vary from region to region, and each is numbered. Ohio hosts four broods, and 2016 saw the emergence of Brood V, which extends over almost the entire eastern half of the state.

For birds, the cicada emergence is like entomological M&M’s dropping from the sky. Almost every species that can catch the big bugs will eat them. I saw robins and red-winged blackbirds deftly plucking cicadas from the air.

The Ohio Ornithological Society queried its members and documented cicada feeding by 44 bird species. These included all our woodpeckers, the ring-billed gull, the screech owl, the Eastern bluebird and two species of raptors.

To me, the most interesting avian response involved cuckoos. We have two species — the yellow-billed and black-billed cuckoos — and both seemed to skyrocket in numbers. I saw or heard them everywhere I went in cicada country, sometimes five or six simultaneously.

Cuckoos apparently invade areas of cicada irruptions en masse to take advantage of the food bounty. They will even become brood parasites: Female cuckoos produce excess eggs that will be dumped in other birds’ nests.

Residents living within Brood V boundaries will enjoy 16 years of tranquility. But brace yourselves for 2033.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.