Showing posts with label Sword-bearing Conehead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sword-bearing Conehead. Show all posts

Friday, January 3, 2025

Field Station Exploration

                           Field Station Exploration
 

 
  Hiram College field station, Portage County, NE Ohio

 

The ground is snow-covered now and there's a Lake Effect Snow Warning here in NE Ohio. My last surviving Broad-winged Tree Cricket finally passed away in December but my ancient Black-legged Meadow Katydid is still singing occasionally in his spacious mesh butterfly cage in the dining room. (If you read my preceding post, "The Prodigal Katydid," this katydid was the featured character in the story.) He no longer climbs up high in his cage, but he has a very nice array of foods arranged along its floor.
                                                                         



     Black-legged Meadow Katydid on 1-3-25.  On the left is his grape half, on the right are                hydration cubes, and seeds from his bulrush seed heads are on the floor of his cage.
                         

Although we have the inevitable traveling crowd of House Sparrows here at the moment, I’m focusing on all the other birds in our natural backyard and at our feeders. Still, I deeply miss my summer and early autumn afternoons and nights in the meadows, marsh edges, and shrubby woodland borders that are over half a year away.

 

Summer feels so distant now.

 

 

During that past 15 years that I've studied singing insects throughout NE Ohio, I’ve spent more time in Geauga County than anywhere else in NE Ohio and have also done surveys in Lake, Summit, Stark, Lorain, Medina, and Cuyahoga Counties. 

                                  Northeast Ohio - Wikitravel     

                                                           (Wikitravel.org)

I had visited three of the Portage County parks a number of years ago, but hadn't spent as much time in that county as I thought would be helpful to regionally connect Geauga to Portage to Summit.

But where would I be able to spend considerable time in this rural county?

Perhaps the 550-acre Hiram College Field Station in Portage County might be interested in my survey work. I didn’t know anyone there except their Education and Outreach Director, Mike Sustin, whom I’d previously met at other regional park districts. He cheerfully became my Hiram Field Station contact person. Field Station director Dr. Michael Benedict and the staff also welcomed me.

I couldn’t possibly explore the entire property in one summer and needed to target the areas that seemed most likely to have substantial numbers and diversity of singing insects. I also needed to consider what felt safe to explore during my typical nighttime forays.

There were shrubby meadows, woodlands and a large prairie within walking distance of where I parked my car. I would need to keep the trail options organized in my head, as it would be easy to become confused in the dark. 

 

              

 

Fortunately, Wendy (my wife) accompanied me first by day, then on my initial night exploration as I learned the trails. I found some landmarks – the occasional signs, the hanging grapevine dangling above the trail, an opening in the tree canopy…

As you probably know by now, I am drawn to meadows and prairies. They are the most productive places to search for crickets and katydids, and I cherish the openness and all that sky above me – especially at night.

Park district land managers are turning former farm fields into meadows and even prairies of native grasses.  Mike Sustin introduced me to Hils Vista, which is the prairie-in-progress at the Hiram Field Station. (It is named after professor of biology and former Field station director Matthew Hils. You can read more about the field station's Grassland Program here.)

 



The prairie was filled with big bluestem and other prairie grasses instead of the usual dense goldenrod meadows I love and know so well. It was gorgeous! 

Who might I find there?

 

 

As I walked farther down the long hill, meadow vegetation like goldenrod, ironweed, and Joe-pye weed began to dominate closer the bottom of the trail near Silver Creek.  Could I have both prairie grasses up higher on the hill and meadow vegetation farther down – and perhaps changes in the Orthopteran species along the extensive trail? Excellent!

 


July in NE Ohio is the time to look and listen for early katydids, with the first tree crickets joining them as the month progresses. The prairie grasses were perfect for the first Sword-bearing Coneheads in July.

 


 

                                 Sword-bearing Coneheads at the Hiram Field Station
 

 

I have been concerned in recent years about lower numbers than expected of Broad-winged Bush Katydids and even our previously abundant Curve-tailed Bush Katydids. Would I find them out here?  

Yes! The Broad-winged Bush Katydids were right on time, followed shortly thereafter by the Curve-tailed Bush Katydids. The  numbers weren't  high, but I was very glad - and relieved - that they were present.

 

                                Broad-winged Bush Katydid male, Hils Vista 

          Curve-tailed Bush Katydid in the prairie grasses - not where I typically see them



NE Ohio’s widespread look-alike/sound-alike Black-horned Tree Crickets and Forbes’s Tree Crickets prefer goldenrod, but this was a large meadow filled with native prairie grasses. I'd look for them elsewhere on the property.

 

 

However, I often find Four-spotted Tree Crickets in tall grasses, and Hils Vista was apparently a very attractive habitat for them.  



 
By the third week of July, I heard their songs scattered along the trails and saw them mating.

    

          Four-spotted Tree Crickets mating (above) and a recently-mated female, Hils Vista.

    

                                         



Broad-winged Tree Crickets mature a little later, and they, too, were in the prairie grasses and forbs. This is not where I usually find them in my region; blackberry and goldenrod are where I expect to hear Broad-winged Tree Crickets, and they are typically very well hidden in the dense vegetation. 

 
                                             
                                                Broad-winged Tree Cricket singing                                  
 

 

The songs of the Broad-winged Tree Crickets were mixed with those of the Four-spotted Tree Crickets, and the pairing of these two distinct songs caught my attention. It sounded familiar, but not from the dense goldenrod/blackberry meadows and thickets of Geauga and Lake Counties where Broad-winged Tree Crickets are likely to be singing with Black-horned Tree Crickets in  areas with shrubs or Forbes's Tree Crickets in the goldenrod.

Instead, the Broad-winged Tree Crickets and Four-spotted Tree Crickets had been singing together in a former agricultural field in Stark County and also in fields and edges in southern Ohio. Here, they were singing together in a Portage County prairie. Sometimes, songs define places for me rather than the other way around.

There were singers on the ground level as well.

Although easy to overlook, Fall Field Crickets and our three most common ground cricket species (Allard’s, Striped, and Carolina) were present almost everywhere. 

 

                          

       Fall Field Cricket female. The males are the singers and the females lay the eggs.   

    

Tiny Spring Trigs in the meadow vegetation were followed by Say's Trigs and Handsome Trigs in meadows and shrubby edges

                                                           

                 

 Say's Trig - only about 1/4" in size 
Breakneck Creek Preserve, Portage County 
 

                                       

August brought the penetrating songs of another conehead species: the Round-tipped Conehead. 

                          Round-tipped Coneheads, Hils Vista, Hiram field station

             

          Round-tipped Coneheads can be green or brown. 

         The individual above was one of the brown Round-tipped Coneheads at the field station.

 
                                            

I’ve documented Round-tipped Coneheads as they've moved north into my region from southern Ohio, and they are now are well-established all the way up to Lake Erie.

Round-tipped Coneheads mature in mid or even late August,and mid-August is when I began hearing adult males singing in the prairie grasses of Hils Vista.

 

But there are still more areas I haven’t even visited yet. Who knows which species will be singing there?

The Hiram Field Station has been a delightful discovery! I’d like to return there again this summer to see – and hear – if there are any additional species I might have missed or that simply were not present last year. In addition, this past summer was very dry, and I don’t know to what extent this may have affected last year's - and next year's - numbers and diversity.

There’s only one way to find out…

 

                           Lisa Rainsong · Narrow-winged Tree Cricket and others Hiram Field Station 8-5-24

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.