Well folks, the race is on.
Not NASCAR at Talladega—that’s not til a week from tomorrow. Nor the Cubs’ race for the National League pennant. (But golly, wouldn’t it be something if they went the distance?)
Nope, this week’s topic is The Race to the Finish. That is, the rush for animals to finish all that is needed before winter sets in.
You’re probably familiar with a lot of the rituals: Chipmunks and squirrels are running around like mad, scurrying to store provisions. (A lot to do, not a lot of time to do it–that’s one reason we see a spike in rodent roadkill this time of year.) Mammals of all types are growing in their heavy cold-weather coats. Birds are either migrating or making preparations to stay here til spring. Reptiles and amphibians making only brief appearances, soaking up those last golden rays of warmth before heading underground for as many as six long months.
Then we have our local insects. Some, you’ve likely noticed, are already gone. Fireflies wound down in August (after a very long run this year; can’t remember the last time I saw them starting in May and blinking their way all the way into mid August). Cicadas, for the most part, capped their performances a few weeks ago.
But if you listen closely, you can still hear our other summer songsters, the order known as Orthoptera. The name, derived from the Greek ortho, or “straight,” and “ptera,” or wing, might not be familiar to you, but the individuals certainly are. We’re talking grasshoppers, crickets and katydids.
Even this past week, with nighttime temperatures in the 40s, these guys are still hanging in there, doing what they need to do to ensure another round of their gene stock carries on next spring.
We were busy this past week teaching Wredling Middle School students at the Hickory Knolls Natural Area–130 acres rich in many things, including insects. Yet each morning when we’d arrive, the prairies and fields were quiet. Not a peep from the resident orthopterans.
I’m sure they’d have preferred to be singing, in the special way they do—rubbing body parts like wings or legs to produce sound through a process called stridulation. But such movement isn’t really possible when the temperature is below 50F, a critical point for animals like insects that need to literally warm up before any activity, singing or otherwise, can begin.
But as the hours marched on, and the sun crept higher in the sky, the temperatures began to climb too. And that’s when the performances would begin. Buzzes, chirps and whirrs emitting from the grasses and shrubs—the sounds of male orthopterans crooning their little open circulatory systems out.
Around noon on Thursday, just as we were about to hike the kids to the picnic shelter for lunch, I came upon some undeniable evidence that all that effort was paying off. Alongside a trail, in some soft soil, I saw a large female grasshopper laying eggs. Her head, thorax and wings were visible, but her abdomen was largely out of view, stuck as it was inside a small hole in the ground.
Female grasshoppers are gifted with an amazing ovipositor consisting of two pairs of strong, shovel-shaped valves that can move dirt in short order, making it possible for these girls to deposit their eggs an inch or more below the soil’s surface and out of harm’s way. Despite the ruckus of 120 pairs of 6th-grade feet tromping within a foot or two of her spot, the female grasshopper barely flinched. She had a job to do, and not much time to do it.
Beneath the ground, in the tiny tunnel she excavated, she laid her eggs but also secreted a sticky goo, a material that binds with soil particles to create a grasshopper version of cement. So encased, the eggs will spend the winter underground.
Next spring, though ma and pa grasshopper (and cricket, and katydid) are long gone, their offspring will emerge as nymphs—miniature versions of their forebears–and the cycle will begin again.
Frost was predicted last night, and again tonight, but I’ll bet a few savvy orthopterans have survived. It usually takes a succession of hard frosts to knock out every last individual.
This coming week, temperatures are forecast to climb back into the 70s, and whatever rugged survivors remain will be out in full force. If you get the chance, take a moment to tune in. You won’t hear the engine roar of Talladega, or the thundering cheers of long-denied Cub fans. But all those buzzes, chirps and whirrs? They’re the sounds of a race to the finish, just the same.
Pam Otto is the manager of nature programs and interpretive services at the Hickory Knolls Discovery Center, a facility of the St. Charles Park District. She can be reached at 630-513-4346 or potto@stcparks.org.
October 16, 2015
The Race to Winter
Photo Credit: Lewis Gorman
The race is on! Grasshoppers and their cousins, the crickets and katydids, have only a short time left before cold temperatures kick in and their season is over.