(Go on, admit it. This is a question you've asked yourself at least once, hmm?) If you have not, then you must be asking yourself, WHY would she wonder, or even care about the daily habits of a cricket? A strange and useless thing to ponder, I realize this, but cannot control the workings of my mind, only what I do with what goes on up there. This cricket question popped up while I was watering grass seed that I'd strewn atop the shovelfuls of mud I told you about two weeks ago. As insects go, crickets are fairly tolerable, much more so than their grasshopper cousins. Crickets don't zoom through the air and smack you in the face while you're mowing the lawn or walking across the driveway to get the mail. They hop and boing out of the grass, but that's about it. Not too pesty.
Field Cricket on the left, Jiminy Cricket, from the 1940 movie, Pinocchio, on the right. I get the connection - they both do Song and Dance Routines - yet I see no resemblance between the two, nor have I ever encountered a cricket wearing a hat, of any color
buddies? Answer, yes. After sunset they crank it up, triple their daylight decibel chirp level. Our property becomes a wall-to-wall carpet of crickets. It sounds as though there are as many crickets as there are stars above their little chirpy bodies. All this sound produced from only male crickets rubbing their wings together to call to their mates. The bottom of their wings are covered with teeth-like ridges that make it rough and the upper surfaces act like a scraper. Rubbing both together create a chirping sound called stridulation. A cricket symphony, Opus 2U, A Lotta Night Music.
~~ a game played with a ball and bat by two sides of usually 11 players each on a large field centering upon two wickets each defended by a batsman
Members of The Crickets, top to bottom, Jerry Allison, Buddy Holly and Joe B. Mauldin
We're on the brink of a season change here in the southwest Ozarks. Trees are shedding leaves, temperatures aren't ultra summer hot, humidity is down. My favorite season, autumn. Cool, crisp air, the orange, red and yellow hues of maple and oak leaves, bluer skies. Gnats, mosquitoes, chiggers, ticks, grasshoppers vanish, the high-revved whining of the cicadas ceases. And the cricket choruses wink off, which makes me wonder: is it because their life cycles are over, their season to exist has passed, or have they moved somewhere warmer and
kept on singing?
Any pests (of the insect variety:) who you're happy to say
good riddance to at summer's end?