Monday, December 18, 2023

Crickets and Katydids in the House 2023

 


 It’s time for my annual “Crickets and Katydids in the House” to close out another calendar year of Listening in Nature blog posts.  Although the indoor numbers are diminishing as these elderly insects gradually fade away, we’ve had another fascinating festival of singers this autumn.

As you can see, Nikos has been keeping an eye on the singers and their mesh butterfly cages in the dining room.  We have a pair of south windows there that both orthopterans and felines enjoy.

 

Does Nikos present problems for the insects? Not typically. In fact, I’ve repeatedly found him stretched out on their table next to their mesh cages, sound asleep. They sing regardless of his proximity.

Our distinguished guest this year was Michael Microcentrum (Microcentrum retinerve), a Lesser Angle-wing katydid from southern Ohio. This species is moving north from southern and central Ohio but is not in my immediate region – yet. I have recorded them as far north as the Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Summit County (the county on Cuyahoga County’s southern border), so they’re coming.

  


His song was a series of three quick, sharp, loud exclamations followed by a pause, then another group of two or three exclamations.Sometimes he really startled me!

 

Michael loved grape leaves, which I provided for as long as possible. 


I subsequently used an entire leaf of Romaine lettuce in a little vase, which he found to be an  acceptable substitute.

As with all the singers here, Michael had a daily organic grape half and organic apple slice plus Fluker’s cricket hydration cubes for water and dry cricket food. I also mist the mesh lid of each cage nightly, and I’ve seen both Michael and occasionally tree crickets immediately drinking the water drops. 

                       This is a good size for tree crickets. Katydids need something larger
                

                                
                                       Michael Microcentrum with his grape and apple slice.

 

Grape leaves were challenging not only because their season was gradually ending, but also because Nikos really wanted those large leaves. One night when he was being especially obnoxious about trying to seize his leafy prey, I put a large grape leaf on top of his head.

 


 He stopped. The grape leaf seemed to be an immediate calming aid. He sat motionless with the grape leaf on his head for the next half hour.

  


Our two other katydids are gorgeous Black-legged Meadow Katydids (Orchelimum nigripes): one from Geauga County and one from Lake County. Black-legged Meadow Katydids are common along ponds and wetland edges and live quite comfortably in a larger mesh cage with plant cuttings and seed heads from their original locations.

The Lake County Black-legged has a cattail seed head in his cage, as those were abundant in his area. There were no cattails anywhere near the Geauga Black-legged's wetland.  He lived in bulrushes, and that’s exactly what he has now.

You’ll notice in my photos that the Geauga Black-legged’s face is almost white while the Lake County Black-legged’s face is the rusty red of his cattails. Is the color in some way determined by the habitat? I have no idea.

 

                                   Black-legged Meadow Katydid from Geauga County

                                    Black-legged Meadow Katydid from Lake County

You may know the typical song of this species: tic-tic-tic-and then a long whirr.
 

 

                       

                         Nikos watching the Geauga Black-legged Meadow Katydid.

 

Both of these katydids tear into their Romaine lettuce! It’s quite obvious – just look!

 



The Geauga Black-legged generally stays in my studio next to my desk, as he becomes agitated and annoyed by the other Black-legged, who lives in the dining room. That’s fine with me – how nice to have a Black-legged Meadow Katydid singing right next to me while I’m at my desktop computer!   
 
At times, he also sings several erratically-spaced “tics” after his typical tic-tic-tic-whirrr. 
 
Listen: 

                    

All the other residents in our Orthopteran assisted living accommodations are crickets. Always common here are Forbes’s Tree Crickets (Oecanthus forbesi) and the look-alike sound-alike Black-horned Tree Crickets (Oecanthus nigricornis). Black-horneds are more common east of my region and Forbes’s are likely the species that is found west of Cleveland. Because I live in NE Ohio, I’m in the overlap zone of these two species and have been learning to separate them by song and habitat. 

 


 

Black-horned Tree Crickets seem to be more likely to live where there are shrubs and thicker vegetation rather than out in an open, goldenrod-filled meadow. The latter habitat is a prime territory for Forbes’s Tree Crickets.

There’s a difference in the songs that I can hear in the field and also see on a sonogram. (Musicians: it’s the second harmonic.) I can usually hear the difference in the tone quality and subsequently see it on the sonogram. The distinction can be confirmed by the number of wing strokes per second at a given temperature.

I love them all, of course, but I have a bit of a preference for the Black-horned Tree Cricket’s tone quality. Here’s one from Geauga County:

 

Both species are a delight to have at home! They sing consistently and often seem quite confident or even downright bold. When I unzip the mesh lid of their butterfly cages, they may run right up toward my hand to see what I’m doing.


 

As these tree crickets age, their file and scraper song mechanisms can begin to break down. We had a Forbes’s Tree Cricket  - “Squeaky” - who provided an interesting and very obvious example of how this might sound. 

 

My favorite tree crickets are probably the larger, truly gorgeous Broad-winged Tree Crickets (Oecanthus latipennis). They typically live in dense shrubs such as dogwoods, viburnums, and blackberry, so the indoor habitats I create for them always include blackberry cuttings. They often sing from the underside of a leaf and will immediately hide underneath one if startled.

               Broad-winged Tree Cricket on the underside of a leaf, as is often the case
 

The Broad-winged in this photo, however, was quite exposed as he boldly sang near the top of the cage.
 

 
These tree crickets are one of the easier species to identify in the field, as their songs are consistently at a lower pitch than the nearby Black-horned, Forbes’s, or Four-spotted Tree Crickets. 
 
I recorded this example in the house: first, you'll hear Black-horned Tree Cricket. followed by a Broad-winged Tree Cricket. The Broad-winged Tree Cricket's subsequent entrance will be obvious. 
 

 

 For weeks, we had two of our favorite tree crickets upstairs on a bedroom dresser every night: a Snowy Tree Cricket (Oecanthus fultoni) and a Four-spotted Tree Cricket (Oecanthuis quadripunctatus). Yes, I know. We have multiple favorites.

 
We have Snowy Tree Crickets in our neighborhood, including our backyard. Their steady, rhythmic songs are commonly heard along the Lake Erie shore and also in old, inner-ring suburbs like ours.

                                    This is one of our backyard Snowy Tree Crickets
 

One individual moved from the back of the yard to the native honeysuckle trellis against the house as night temperatures got colder, and I subsequently located him and brought him indoors. Next to him on the dresser was the Four-spotted Tree Cricket, who could still sing his steady trill but just had a little trouble getting warmed up at first. 
 
 
                                                    Four-spotted Tree Cricket
 
Here’s a recording from the bedroom in the dark. The Snowy is the first “voice” you’ll hear.
 


Of course, we always have a Handsome Trig or two or three (Phyllopalpus pulchellus). These tiny crickets were never in our neighborhood until about 10 years ago but have now moved north up to the lakeshore from down in Summit County. They eventually found our backyard and are now annual residents. 
 


 

And what about Nikos? When I needed to provide blackberry cuttings for those crickets that required them, Nikos once again launched an attack on the vegetation (but not the crickets). If a grape leaf could calm him down, could a large blackberry leaf accomplish the same outcome?

 


 ****************************************************************************************************

 
          You can read more about these crickets and katydids in my online field guide, 
          Listening to Insects at Listeningtoinsects.com



Wednesday, November 8, 2023

Orthopteran Orchestration

 

 

While reading through this blog post text draft, the night of October 31st eased into November 1st. The first lake effect snow of the season quietly transformed everything outside my windows into white and brown, while the crickets and katydids in the dining room continued to sing as if it were still September. 

My survey work is primarily by ear, as it’s often done at night and these small, well-hidden insects are not necessarily easy to spot. During the singing insect season (generally July – September in NE Ohio) there are specific crickets and katydids that mature and sing at the same time. I know these species individually, but I also know them as ensembles. 

I listen as a professional musician, so I’m very aware of pitches, rhythms, and also which insects sing at the same time in various habitats and at different times of the summer and early fall. I expect to hear certain species together, which is why I refer to them as ensembles. 

For example, in my recent “Unsettled Summer” blog post, I wrote about three of the early species of katydids that mature beginning at the end of June and continue to be center stage through the first three weeks of July. These were the Gladiator Meadow Katydid (Orchelimum gladiator), 


    and the Broad-winged Bush Katydid (Scudderia pistillata).

Here are the two species together - a gentle, peaceful duet.

 

A few weeks later, the Sword-bearing Conehead (Neoconocephalus ensiger) will join them.


 

Tree Crickets would not yet be singing, nor would the other katydids. Therefore, the Gladiators and Broad-wingeds are an opening duet that is subsequently joined by the Sword-bearers.

These three katydids are near the southern edge of their ranges, as you can see from these range maps from Singing Insects of North America.

 


Gladiator Meadow Katydid, Broad-winged Bush Katydid, and Sword-bearing Conehead    range maps


Is this why they sing earlier than other species? I've also observed that the crickets and katydids who are moving up from further south are ones who begin singing later in the summer such as the Round-tipped Conehead.



Around the third or fourth week of July, the Curve-tailed Bush Katydids typically  join the early katydid trio. Their rhythmic pattern contrasts with the Broad-winged Bush Katydids and adds another instrument to the percussion ensemble. This is as expected. 

                           Curve-tailed Bush Katydid (Scudderia curvicauda)
 

Shortly thereafter, the Oblong-winged Katydid and Rattler Round-winged Katydid will also begin calling. The insect ensemble initially consists primarily of katydids and ground crickets, with the first tree crickets only beginning to sing in late July.

Therefore, the July ensembles will primarily feature the percussionists, as I call them. Why that description? The songs of katydids are higher and more complex than what we’d perceive as pitched instruments, typically ranging from 8 or 9 kHz to at least 20 kHz. This is where we might hear consonants rather than vowels in human speech and where many non-pitched percussion instruments would be heard in an ensemble. (These are also the frequencies that our ears may gradually lose with age, which is why hearing tests focus on our ability to hear consonants.)

So what happens if the July musicians are all late in maturing, as they were this summer? They might begin singing in their usual ensembles, but the concert would start later than expected. Sonic relationships are maintained, but the performance time is delayed. Earlier ensembles may subsequently overlap with ones that typically sing later.

But what if a single species is either late, occurs only in small numbers, or doesn’t appear at all? This results in a sonic gap because part of the ensemble is missing. This, too, was apparent, especially in July and early August.

 

                      Curve-tailed Bush Katydid female (Scudderia curvicauda)

 

I noticed missing part in the July ensemble this summer; there were far fewer Curve-tailed Bush Katydids than I’d expected. During the past few summers, I had begun to wonder if their numbers were decreasing but couldn’t exactly document the change. What I heard this year was obvious, and it worried me. It was unsettling to have one of the ensemble members in lower-than-expected numbers. It was a gap in the music.

The Common True Katydids should have made their noisy presence known toward the end of July…but no one seemed to cover that part in the orchestral score. They’re impossible to miss when they’re present, as they are loud and insistent. 

            Common True Katydid (Pterophylla camellifolia) chewing on my hand.

Their absence was apparent. 

Why weren’t they calling from up in the trees? I couldn’t even imagine our backyard and those of our neighbors without this important member of the Orthopteran orchestra! I worried about what might have happened to them. Was it the violent storms of early August? Numerous tornados formed across northern Ohio in just one night, and a substantial amount of tree damage occurred. 

I began to hear them in some places a week or two later, but there were none singing in the immediate vicinity of our yard. They didn’t begin to call until later in August – about 4 weeks late!

What were the factors?

As you may recall from my other posts, there is a significant ensemble change at the end of July. The Gladiator Meadow Katydids begin to fade out and are replaced by their Black-legged Meadow Katydid cousins. 

                          Black-legged Meadow Katydid (Orchelimum nigripes)


I begin to hear fewer Broad-winged Bush Katydids (Scudderia pistillata) and many more Curved-tailed Bush Katydids (Scudderia curvicauda) taking their place. That’s the way the score reads, anyway…

But recently, there seems to be a decline in Curve-tailed Bush Katydid numbers, and I saw or heard far fewer than I would have expected. Eventually, I began to hear another of their Scudderia cousins that matures a little later– the Texas Bush Katydid (Scudderia texensis). Yet their numbers also seemed quite low, as they have in the past few years. 

                             Texas Bush Katydid (Scudderia texensis)  

 

Where were the Scudderia? Was something happening to the most prominent members of this genus? How should I document my aural observations?

I didn’t expect to see or hear many Oblong-winged Katydids because they were quite abundant last year. It seems that a year of abundance is typically followed by a year of scarcity, so I wasn’t overly concerned. 

                            Oblong-winged Katydid (Amblycorypha oblongifolia)

 

Their little cousins, the Rattler Round-winged Katydids, are not very common in my area – at least not now. I did see and hear more of them several years ago, but now I’m surprised and pleased when I encounter them. 

                           Rattler Round-winged Katydid (Amblycorypha rotundifolia)


 Recording of the Rattler Round-winged Katydid followed by the Oblong-winged Katydid

 

Meadow katydids did not seem to be as impacted, nor did the Greater Angle-wings up in the trees. 

                                   Greater Angle-wing (Microcentrum rhombifolium)
 

                          

It was the bush katydids' unexpectedly low numbers that were troubling to me.

Fortunately, most of the tree crickets filled the meadows and woodland edges with their August and September choruses, though they, too, were later than expected. 

                   Snowy Tree Cricket (Oecanthus fultoni) in our backyard. They, too, 
                       were late to mature.  
 

Ground Crickets, Fall Field Crickets, and Jumping Bush Crickets were not a concern, nor were the Handsome Trigs and Say’s Trigs.

Once they all matured, the missing songs were less apparent and the choruses sounded reassuringly complete.

 

                                 Jumping Bush Cricket (Orocharis saltator)  
                         
 
 

                                          Says Trig (Anaxypha exigua)

 

I realized I was beginning to create two categories of observations:

1.   All the katydid and cricket species in my region seemed to mature later than usual, and some very much so. I’ve talked with a number of naturalists who are knowledgeable about other insects and who noticed similar delays. I also heard reports of various plants being late as well. I know when to expect to hear my region's singing insects, but now I may need to think through some more specific documentation.

What factors may have caused this delay across species? As I noted in “Unsettled Summer," NE Ohio had three consecutive weeks in May with no rain.  This never happens in the greater Cleveland region. September was also very dry, yet July had considerably more rainfall. Violent storms, including numerous tornados, occurred even in the greater Cleveland area on two consecutive days in August. A significant amount of storm damage resulted - especially to trees -  even within Cleveland's city limits. 

2.   The absence of some of the expected singers within seasonal and habitat ensembles was more disturbing to me, as I worry that we could be seeing/hearing the first signs of losing particular species. As a human listener, it’s not only one species that’s unexpectedly missing. That absence affects the overall sound and general sense of environmental well-being I experience when a group of katydid and cricket species sings together in their seasonal ensembles.

     I have been listening to climate change in NE Ohio for years. This has meant hearing new songs (both Orthopteran and avian) from farther south in Ohio that gradually join those of the expected residents up here in NE Ohio.

What I was hearing this year, however, was different. It was about absences.

 

                                          Curve-tailed Bush Katydid


 I've included quite a few recordings in this post so you can match up the photos with the sounds.
I’ll write more next summer about insect songs and ensembles. In the meantime, you can look up all these crickets and katydids in my online field guide, Listening to Insects at Listeningtoinsects.com.