Before begin reading, here's some current guidance for listening to the sound files. Because SoundCloud no longer provides a reasonable way to play the embedded recordings in this post, my sound files will direct back to my field guide, Listening to Insects. You'll be able to connect to the recordings there as well as read more about each of the three featured crickets and katydids in this post, and then jump back to where you were in the story. 

   

                            Returning Home to the Field 

It’s been nine months since my left hip replacement and a year and a half since I first developed so much pain that walking was difficult enough to limit my time in the field. Because of the pain followed by my subsequent surgery, I wasn’t able to perform my usual Orthoptera searches last summer.

 I’ve reached the point where I can walk a mile and a half, and sometimes even a little more. One of my final steps to field-readiness is relearning how best to carry my field backpack and recording equipment. It’s not too heavy, so I expect to manage this shortly. 

 And my heavy, old Canon camera that takes such nice singing insect photos? I   can't ask my hip to support that much weight and bulk on a belt around my waist anymore. I decided I will need to replace it with something smaller and lighter with good macro ability

 And it’s time. Spring Trigs are singing, and I thought it might be interesting to review where I’ve heard them in recent years and where else they may currently be present. As of now, I’ve only managed to get a couple of photos of these tiny crickets.They are very small and well-hidden in their vegetation, but maybe…just maybe I might get lucky again…

And Spring Field Crickets? They’ve already been singing along the Lake Erie shore since late May. 

                              

                                            Spring Field Cricket 

 

Who else is early? Roesel’s Katydids! I haven’t checked on this non-native –   but non-invasive - species in several years now. These small katydids are not   widespread, but this is exactly the time to look and listen for them in meadows. 

That should be plenty for the remainder of June and early July, I would think. 

 

Checking for those singing insects that are not the most common Orthopterans in a particular area is definitely worthwhile. Populations can fluctuate. Some species may increase over time and become well established. Others may decrease and even fade out.

I’ll start with the three species I’ve just mentioned. Most katydids won’t mature until just a little later.

Spring Trigs numbers seem to have been increasing. These tiny crickets are doing well and are abundant in some locations now. 

 

                        

                                       Male Spring Trig, long-wingred form

They have recently become well-established in the area of Cleveland Metroparks’ North Chagrin Reservation where I do the weekly FrogWatch survery, so that seemed to be a good place to start. There had been a sizable number of Spring Trigs there in addition to a plentiful number of frogs

 https://www.listeningtoinsects.com/spring-trig

                              

                                                                   Female Spring Trig

 

When I arrived, the Gray Treefrogs were proclaiming their territory and availability so boisterously that they seemed to overpower everyone else in this marshy area.  

 

                                                            

                                            

But where were the Spring Trigs? I came there specifically to listen for them! There had been a whole chorus of trigs when I did my weekly FrogWatch survey just one week prior. It seemed a little too early for their season of song to have finished so abruptly.

There was, however, one Spring Trig whose light, silvery song seemed to float  through the proclamations of the treefrogs.  Listen:

 

 

My other location couldn’t be any closer: the native perennial garden bordering the driveway in our backyard. Our sunny areas are limited by the large, old Pin Oaks along the driveway next to the house and the native trees we planted in the backyard over the years.

But that sunny strip along the backyard driveway leading up to the garage includes ironweed, joe pye weed, eupatorium, mountain mint, native honeysuckle, and a native hydrangea. That lush but narrow strip of native plants has also hosted a Spring Trig for about four weeks.

 

 

 

I’ve been hearing this tiny cricket every evening until at least midnight, and sometimes he’ll start singing by dusk. I’d found in previous years that Spring Trigs don’t typically sing during the day. I’m delighted every evening to hear that delicate, shimmering song as soon as I open the back door in the late afternoon, evening, or early morning.  (Spring Trigs don’t typically sing if the   sun is on them or their plants. They wait for shade or darkness to return.)

But even though I could get close to his preferred plants, I could not visually locate this trig. The vegetation is lush and is about as high as our 6-foot chain link deer prevention fence. If I gently move the plants he might be singing from, he’ll simply fall silent. Without being able to follow his song, there has been no way I could find him.

 

         

                                           He's in there somewhere... 

 

I certainly hope there are a couple of female Spring Trigs in the border as well so that maybe there might be Spring Trigs there again next year. I would be absolutely delighted!

 

                      

                                                 Female Spring Trig

 Although I’m unable to find him visually, I can still record him to document his   presence in our yard.  I went out a couple of nights ago with my shotgun     microphone to try to locate him by ear and then record him. As I listened, it       sounded as though there may actually be three trigs singing from within different tall,   native perennials. If so, they were both singing on the same pitch, as these crickets   typically do when both are at the same temperature.

Recording in the city does have its challenges, though. Wendy and I live in one of Cleveland’s old, inner-ring suburbs that we love very much. Although it’s reasonably quiet most of the year, that’s not necessarily true in the summer – especially after dark. I did my best to record what I could in between motorcycles and loud, obnoxious cars. Here’s what I was able to capture in our suburban setting:

 

 

This morning was chilly, overcast, and windy when I left for a medical appointment. On my return at about 12:15 PM, it was still overcast and windy, and yet… the Spring Trig was singing at about 12:15 PM. 

Perhaps it was the amount of light rather than the time of day (or early evening) that was the trigger. I could tell he was singing about 6” above the ground at most and seemed to be in be a clump of violet leaves, though I still couldn’t see him. 

Instead of cars and motorcycles, his daytime accompaniment was the neighborhood dogs barking to their canine neighbors, and workers repairing recent roof and garage damage that occurred to nearby houses during the intense thunderstorms the previous Sunday.

I had one final Spring Trig surprise after a brief trip to record the Spring Trig singing along with a that substantial chorus of Gray Treefrogs again (which I was able to do). 

As I pulled into the garage, I heard more then one Spring Trig. My recording gear was conveniently on the passenger seat of my car, so I immediately started recording. I was delighted to confirm that there are at least three Spring Trigs in the driveway garden along the fence line!

How did they get here? My guess is that they'd arrived in some of our native plant purchases!   

There is another early-season cricket on my list: the Spring Field Cricket. This cricket does not typically live in the same habitats as those preferred by Spring Trigs. The most reliable location to hear Spring Field Crickets – and sometimes, even see them - is on or near Lake Erie’s beaches.  

 

                      

                             Lake Erie Bluffs, Lake County Metroparks

Spring Field Crickets are right at home in sandy soil and even just sand with just a little vegetation for cover. As is typical with crickets, they are far easier to hear than to see.  I need to listen closely, follow my ears, and then check around any vegetation, pieces of driftwood, and other possible hiding places. 

They aren’t as tiny as the Spring Trigs and they aren’t deeply hidden in their plants, so actually seeing them is a definite possibility. They’re good jumpers, though, and they’re fast, so you may only get a glimpse of them!

 

                      

 

The song is a cheerful chirp-chirp-chirp that sounds identical to the Fall Field   Crickets that will mature after the Spring Field Crickets have concluded their   season. (“Cheerful” is actually a better word for how I feel when I hear them.   They’re just going about their business of proclaiming their territory and attracting   females.)

 https://www.listeningtoinsects.com/spring-field-cricket

 

              

He does not need to raise his wings very high to make his delightful chirps 

 

There are places other than sandy beaches where Spring Field Crickets can be found, and I wrote about their additional habitats in a previous blog post  several years ago. They do like sunny fields with somewhat sandy soil, and I’ve also noticed that I’ve heard them close to railroad tracks. Why there? I think it’s because the areas adjoining the tracks are typically open, sunny, and rather dry.

I learned this by following my ears and checking surrounding habitats, but my favorite locations just happen to be Lake Erie beaches. 

                           

 

Their season will be finishing soon, though, so now is the time to listen and look for them! There will then be a brief pause between the Spring Field Crickets and the look-alike, sound-alike Fall Field Crickets that will begin singing in late July. (This reminds me of the pause often heard between movements of a musical work).

 

The Roesel's Katydid, Roeseliana roeselii (what a beautiful name!) is another  singing insect on my early-season list. 

  

                           Roesel's Katydid, long-winged form

 

This beautiful little European katydid is not a native species, but it’s also not invasive. It doesn’t seem to cause any problems for our native katydids. They prefer fields with grasses and some forbs mixed in, so look for them up in  the meadow vegetation instead of on or near the ground.    

                        

 

Following their sound is going to be considerably more challenging than locating Spring Trigs and Spring Field Crickets by ear. The Roesel’s song is a continuous buzz like a wire that might have a short in it. Also, cricket songs are much easier to hear than those of katydids because they are lower in pitch  

 

               

                                     Roesel's Katydid, short-winged form   

 For some of us, the song may not seem very loud. If you’re substantially younger than I am, the Roesel’s song will seem considerably louder and maybe even a little annoying.

 Here’s what to listen for:

 https://www.listeningtoinsects.com/roesel-s-katydid 

 

               

                     Long-winged and short-winged Roesel's Katydids

 

I’m concerned about the Roesel’s Katydids. They weren’t especially common when I first began doing singing insect surveys, but I could always count on finding them on a regular basis. Now, however, they have gradually become increasingly uncommon. For that reason, I plan to search every appropriate habitat I visit this summer for these little katydids. If this species is losing ground, I want to be able to record this change.

Of course, searching for answers to the questions I’ve raised will require my walking in these insects’ habitats both before and after dark.  I plan to extend my listening walks farther as my left hip becomes accustomed to what I typically ask of it.  

It may literally feel like one step at a time at first, but I’m getting there.