The weather was hot, a-nearly 90 degrees. The man standin' next to me, his head was exploding, Well, I was prayin' the pieces wouldn't fall on me. Yeah, the locusts sang off in the distance, Yeah, the locusts sang such a sweet melody. Oh, the locusts sang off in the distance, And the locusts sang and they were singing for me. I put down my robe, picked up my diploma, Took hold of my sweetheart and away we did drive, Straight for the hills, the black hills of Dakota, Sure was glad to get out of there alive. And the locusts sang, well, it give me a chill, Yeah, the locusts sang such a sweet melody. And the locusts sang with a high whinin' trill, Yeah, the locusts sang and they was singing for me, Singing for me, well, singing for me.
— Bob Dylan H '70, from "Day of the Locusts"
Summer is here, and the sound of whirring and drilling floats through the open windows of libraries and dorm rooms. The construction crews are busily erecting fences in preparation for Reunions. Soon, that noise will be joined by the constant chorus of cicadas singing wildly to woo each other in their month-long existence above ground.
As Melisa Gao reports today, masses of cicadas will emerge this month from a 17-year slumber. Burrowed underground, they have been oblivious to the constant construction and changes that have occurred on campus.
And they come into a world quite different from that in 1987, when they last saw the light of day.
Cicadas, like Reunions, are a fact of life that occurs on Princeton's campus at regular intervals. They serve as a backdrop to the seniors now preparing to leave the place they called home for four years.
For the Class of 2004, June marks one of the most long-awaited moments in their life, as they will collect their diplomas and scatter around the world to pursue careers and further education. Like the appearance of the 17-year cicadas, Commencement represents the culmination of a lifetime of work.
We hope that when the seniors emerge into the world, they will seize their moment to add their voices to the chorus in a meaningful way.
Fortunately, they have longer than a month. But the cicadas remind us that our time in the spotlight is fleeting — as if the speed with which the past four years have disappeared weren't enough.
And we hope that the graduating seniors, like the 17-year cicadas, will make regular returns to campus in all of their orange-and-black glory.
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