Swarmed or shortchanged? Frederick County residents buzz about their cicada encounters -- or lack thereof

Jun. 16—Back in 2004, the Brood X cicada emergence traumatized Mount Airy's Josh Zoltek while he was stationed at Fort Meade. The sheer volume of the bulging-eyed bugs haunted him, and he wasn't looking forward to their return this June.

Despite his wariness, Zoltek pledged to be ready this go-round for the insects who make an appearance every 17 years.

"I warned my two daughters about how bad it was going to be," said Zoltek, who "delayed planting our vegetable garden so I wouldn't have to deal with them, and put nets over newly planted trees to protect them."

To Zoltek's surprise — and delight — cicadas have barely buzzed a whisper at his home. He said he's seen just a handful, despite the trees bordering his property.

Zoltek now works at Fort Meade as a civilian. He said he's seen the swarming cicadas during his commute, heard their chirping and witnessed the bugs pummeling his car. But his residence has been a different story.

While Maryland is supposed to be the epicenter of this year's cicada event, many in Frederick County have felt shortchanged, wondering when the buzzing "tsunami" would arrive.

Reddit users report cicada-rich spots like Frederick Municipal Forest, Braddock Heights and Gambrill Park. The C&O Canal in Brunswick has also reportedly been awash with the flying tormentors.

Yet many residents in more urban areas haven't eyed a single cicada.

Unlike annual cicadas, Brood X are periodical cicadas. They pop up every 13 or 17 years, and there are 12 different broods of 17-year cicadas and three of the 13-year cicadas. Brood X is the largest, distributed in 15 states from New York to Georgia and west of the Mississippi, said Michael Raupp, a professor of entomology at the University of Maryland.

Raupp previously predicted the appearance of cicadas would be patchy throughout Frederick County. The bugs rely on trees, and Frederick County features an amalgam of farmland, forest, residential neighborhoods and urban areas.

Farm areas haven't bore the brunt of Brood X since they experienced a large amount of deforestation, Raupp said.

Frederick resident Neil Neyman, who lives between Oakdale and Spring Ridge, describes his property as somewhat rural with surrounding trees and a farm with sheep across the street. Neyman wasn't sure if he was going to see them this year, but how wrong he was: Cicadas are sprinkled all over his yard, under trees, on his deck and clinging to his back screen door.

" ... dead ones everywhere, and the living ones clumsily fly around the yard during the day," Neyman said.

He feels the cicadas are only mildly annoying, due mainly to the fact they are so graceless. He said they tend to dive bomb and hit him in the head when he's trying to relax on his deck.

Using an app on his phone, Neyman measured the noise at his property at 70 decibels, roughly as loud as a vacuum cleaner.

It's been Neyman's dog Ralph, however, who has really taken a liking to the periodical visitors. Like many of man's best friend, Ralph runs around the yard trying to catch the cicadas. Fortunately, Ralph stops short at eating the creatures, Neyman said.

For people who enjoy the cicada phenomenon, Neyman is lucky. Many, like Zoltek, have largely seen cicadas only on out-of-county trips east to College Park and Columbia.

Cruzita Navarro was picking up her daughter from Baltimore-Washington International Airport when the two women heard a "blood-curdling scream." She said she turned her head to see a woman frantically swatting cicadas as she exited the airport.

The traveler, Navarro said, was screaming at her friend about not warning her of the "flying roaches." Every time a cicada zipped past, the woman would continue her screams.

"It was awful to witness but funny to hear her go on about flying roaches," Navarro said.

Follow Clara Niel on Twitter: @clarasniel