There they were, finally, stuck on the undersides of fresh green leaves, on the trunks of trees and on the sides of fence posts in Clove Lakes Park on Staten Island.

After weeks of anticipation, Staten Island has seen some of the first of a brood of cicadas that has matured underground for 17 years, and which will be continuing to emerge in the coming days to begin the last, amorous and clamorous stage of its life cycle.

Soon, millions more will climb from the ground in which they have spent nearly two decades, morph from wingless to winged, and take to the trees for their famously noisy courtship. Then, after the eggs are laid, they will swiftly die.

“Like Romeo and Juliet, they die right away,” said Henryk Behnke, the director of communications for the Staten Island Museum, which is hosting an exhibit on the creatures, “and before a midsummer night’s dream, it’s over.”