The Fairy Bell Ringer

Written by Wil Hershberger on September 8, 2011 · 3 Comments

In her book, “A Sense of Wonder,” Rachel Carson pens the following engrossing narrative while describing nocturnal forays in search of singing insects with her adopted son Roger:

Most haunting of all is one I call the fairy bell ringer. I have never found him. I’m not sure I want to. His voice — and surely he himself — are so ethereal, so delicate, so otherworldly, that he should remain invisible, as he has through all the nights I have searched for him. It is exactly the sound that should come from a bell held in the hand of the tiniest elf, inexpressibly clear and silvery, so faint, so barely-to-be-heard that you hold your breath as you bend closer to the green glades from which the fairy chiming comes.

This quote has puzzled readers for a long time. Seemingly, the most apt identity of the singer she was seeking would be the Tinkling Ground Cricket, Allonemobius tinnulus. His song certainly fits the bill — a tiny bell being rung from the woodland floor. The silvery tinkling he produces can’t be heard from very far away as he prefers to hide in the leaf litter, preferable of oaks, as he rings out his chorus. Rachel was certainly not alone in having difficulty finding this diminutive singer. Once one is “certain” where he is singing from and begins to search within the layers of fallen leaves he seems to magically vanish. Other than the very lucky searcher who finds him perched on the surface, the best method to find him seems to be to lay out a light colored sheet, grab a large arm full of leaf litter from where he is singing and plop it on the sheet. Careful searching through the treasures in the mound will finally reveal this elusive songster — usually under the last leaf to be turned.

Tinkling Ground Crickets can be found from the southern portion of the New England States south to mid-Georgia, then south from the Gulf coast of Alabama to east Texas then north to extreme southeast Nebraska with a northern limit across northern Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and then through New York.

Here is a recording of the silvery ringing of a Tinkling Ground Cricket on a cool and rainy day in West Virginia. It certainly evokes the image of a tiny fairy rhythmically swinging a tiny silver bell as if calling all the fairies within earshot to assemble.

Tinkling Ground Cricket singing from the leaf litter in an oak woodland. Berkeley Co. WV. ©Wil Hershberger September, 20110:00 / 0:00

What do you think of Rachel’s marvelous description? Have you heard this secretive singer in the woods near you? If not, next time you are in the woods, from late July until frosts silence these singers, listen for the silvery bell being rung from the forest floor both day and night. A careful approach with a flashlight might just reveal the singer perched on a clump of leaves — lord of his minute domain.

Japanese Burrowing Cricket — A New Singer on the Scene

Written by Wil Hershberger on August 27, 2011 · 4 Comments

Folks have recently been writing and commenting after lectures about a rapid field cricket song they are hearing. Most of these reports are from urban areas and a few from suburbia. During a recent singing insect workshop in southern Ohio we caught one of these gorgeous singers in the act — a Japanese Burrowing Cricket (Velarifictorus micado). They are slightly smaller than our native Fall Field Cricket (Gryllus pennsylvanicus) with pale markings on their face and very nicely patterned stripes on their hind leg femurs.

Japanese Burrowing Crickets were introduced into the Washington D.C. area in 1959. From there they apparently spread to the south and have been introduced all around the Southeast, hitching a ride from nurseries as eggs in the root balls of ornamental plants. There is also evidence that some populations have developed the ability to fly. These are called macropterous individuals as they have longer than normal flight wings making them able to fly more easily and for further distances than the typical form. I have not heard any reports that this new species is displacing or harming our native field and burrowing crickets. I would love to know of any studies that are looking into this.

Now, in 2011, it appears that the Japanese Burrowing Cricket is really on the move. I am hearing them just about everywhere I travel in the mid-Atlantic states. Their songs are distinctive, composed of a rapid series of chirps very reminiscent of a field cricket’s song. These rapid series of chirps can go for 6, 8, to 12 repetitions or can go on more-or-less continuously for minutes on end. Apparently, a number of people have dismissed the song as some form of native field cricket song type that they were not familiar with.

Listen to the mellow chirping of the Japanese Burrowing Cricket, first inside at 77F and then outside at 72F. From personal experience I find that individuals that are outside tend to sing continuous trains of chirps rather than the shorter versions that the inside cricket is singing. However, one of the cricket listeners I was talking with described the shorter chirp sequence coming from his flower beds at night.

Japanese burrowing cricket from Ohio singing short series of chirps followed by a longer series of chirps that was recorded outside near Shepherdstown, Jefferson Co. WV. ©Wil Hershberger August, 20110:00 / 0:00

Have you heard or seen these wonderful introduced burrowing crickets in your area? I think their song is a pleasing addition to the nighttime soundscape. What do you think of their song?

April Shuffler – A Coneheaded Surprise

Written by Lang Elliott on April 22, 2010 · 2 Comments

The spring insect chorus here at Land Between the Lakes is richer than I expected.

Shortly after arriving here on April 19, I became aware of the chirping of Spring Field Crickets and I quickly posted a celebration of their song: The April Chirper. And I figured “that was that,” as far as singing insects were concerned.

But last night when I returned to my camp at dusk and prepared to retire after a long and busy day, I became aware of a very high-pitched “shuffling trill,” not pretty like that of a trilling cricket, but non-musical like the shuffles and scrapes of various katydids.

With the help of a directional microphone, I homed-in on the insect singer, recorded him, and then found him perched on the stem of a sapling growing at the edge of the forest. He was a brown-colored conehead katydid, about an inch-and-a-half long.

I christen him The April Shuffler and here is his high-pitched song:

The shuffling trill of a Hook-faced Conehead. Recorded at dusk by Lang Elliott at Land Between the Lakes, Kentucky, April 21, 2010.0:00 / 0:00

What species of conehead could the April Shuffler be? In our book The Songs of Insects, Wil Hershberger and I feature the songs of five common species of coneheads, but all overwinter as eggs and don’t start singing until mid to late summer. Consulting Tom Walker’s fabulous web site, Singing Insects of North America, I found that there are twenty-three species of coneheads in North America. But which one could possibly be singing in April here at my camp spot in western Kentucky?

Sifting through Tom’s species descriptions and range maps, I was able to identify my shuffler as a Hook-faced Conehead, Pyrgocorypha uncinata, even though he is slightly north of the species’ supposed range (see map below). The name “hook-faced” refers to the down-curved hook at the end of his cone. Adults of this species mature in late summer and fall but do not become reproductively active until April or May of the following year. Either brown or green in color, the males sing from trees and wooded undergrowth.

Mystery solved! But yet another mystery beckons. Earlier the same evening I discovered yet another springtime insect singer along the side of a road—he was producing a nearly continuous musical trill. I’ll call him The April Triller (ha, ha). Must be some kind of cricket (because lots of crickets trill like this), but one that overwinters as a nymph or an adult. But which one is it? I don’t have time to check right now, so why don’t you check for me by visiting Tom Walker’s Web Site and searching for the singer?

Here is the April Triller’s song. The temperature was around 55 F. He is trilling at about 4kHz. I challenge you to tell me what species the singer is!

What cricket would be producing continuous trills from along roadsides in late April in Kentucky? You tell me! Recorded shortly at dusk by Lang Elliott at Land Between the Lakes, Kentucky, April 21, 2010.0:00 / 0:00

The April Chirper

Written by Lang Elliott on April 20, 2010 · 3 Comments

I arrived at Land Between the Lakes late in the afternoon of April 18. As dusk approached, I noticed it was almost dead quiet. No birds were singing, no frogs were calling, and I heard not a howl or yip or chatter from anything furry. But there was one sound that stood out: the incessant soft chirps of crickets, calling from under the leaves along the sides of the dirt roads.

An April Chirper, sounding off at dusk from under leaves at the edge of a road. Recorded by Lang Elliott at Land Between the Lakes, Kentucky, April 18, 2010.0:00 / 0:00

So who is our little April Chirper, sounding off months before nearly all other singing insects will be heard? Our handsome little singer is the Spring Field Cricket, a shiny black cricket about 2/3 inch long.

The Spring Field Cricket, Gryllus veletis, looks identical to the Fall Field Cricket, Gryllus pennsylvanicus. Once thought to be the same species, scientists confirmed that they are morphologically identical but developmentally distinct. Fall Field Crickets overwinter as eggs, as do the vast majority of temperate zone insects, including nearly all the singing crickets and katydids. Adults mature in late summer, and the songs of the males can be heard from late July or August until the first hard frosts. Spring Field Crickets, however, overwinter as nymphs, which quickly develop into adults (only the males sing) when warm weather arrives. Halleleujah—let the insect concert begin!

Spring Field Crickets range across much of the Northeast and Midwest. They continue their chirping until late June or early July, at which time the adults finally die off. Eggs hatch in the summer and develop through late summer and autumn, the large nymphs surviving until the following spring.

How nice it is to hear crickets chirping in the spring! I am thankful that the Spring Field Cricket is a rebel among the insect musicians, a real non-conformist who sprinkles its bright chirps on the springtime landscape when other singing insects are but tiny little hatchlings capable of little more than a whispering hush as they scurry from place to place.

Long-spurred Stridulations

Written by Wil Hershberger on January 29, 2010 · Leave a Comment

One of my favorite things to do, in late summer and fall, is listening to the songs of insects. Getting close enough to watch a katydid actually singing can be quite exciting. This video vignette of a Long-spurred Meadow Katydid gets right in there, up close. Being able to watch him sing is a great way to learn about stridulation.

In crickets and katydids, stridulation is the rubbing of one wing against the other. Males are the only ones that sing, so it’s the males that we seek out to observe. The male in this video is “left-handed,” his left wing lies over his right one. Most crickets and katydids are left-handed. In the image to the left, we are looking at the area of the wings where the sounds are produced, the stridulatory field. The underside of the bar that runs across the stridulatory field has a row of tiny teeth and is called the file. An edge on the top of the lower wing, the scraper, runs across this file vibrating the wings. These vibrations cause the clear areas in both wings (the mirrors) to resonate, amplifying and producing the sounds that we hear. While watching the video, carefully look for these features as he sings. I was extremely fortunate to find this singing Long-spurred Meadow Katydid in a friend’s beautiful garden. He was perched beside a gurgling water fall in a patch of gorgeous purple Russian Sage (Perovskia artriplicifolia).

Katydids produce sounds that span many frequencies, from 5,000 Hz to more than 20,000 Hz. We perceive broad spectrum sounds as noise in contrast to the pleasing sounds of a pure tone. The sonogram player below shows this broad spectrum character of our katydids’ song. (To learn more about frequencies and human hearing see this page.)

Long-spurred Meadow Katydid singing in isolation. Recorded in Ohio, August 2002 by Wil Hershberger. 0:00 / 0:00

Because the Long-spurred Meadow Katydid produces broad spectrum sounds where most of the energy lies above 10,000 Hz, their songs are rather difficult for some people to hear. The pitch lowered song example below is much more audible to our ears. The recording was lowered two octaves in pitch, but nothing was done to the tempo of the song.

Pitch lowered version (2 octaves). Long-spurred Meadow Katydid singing in isolation. Recorded in Ohio, August 2002 by Wil Hershberger. 0:00 / 0:00

Long-spurred Meadow Katydids occur across the mid-western US, from eastern Ohio to western Nebraska and from southern Minnesota to the Gulf coast. Cedar thickets, wooded areas and the margins of woods and fields are their preferred habitats. They seem to prefer cedars and junipers for their homes. From these lofty perches they sing day and night from July until the frosts of fall silence them for the season. Listening to a chorus of many singing males fiddling away on a warm summer afternoon is a wonderfully relaxing and pleasing experience.

Jumping Spider Interlude

Written by Wil Hershberger on January 17, 2010 · Leave a Comment

Jumping spiders can be very cute to look at — as long as you are a human. Their prominent central pair of eyes are large and endearing. However, jumping spiders are voracious ambush hunters. They lie in wait for a hapless critter to wander by. With lightning speed they pounce on their prey and begin to feed. It is a very good thing that jumping spiders aren’t the size of a german shepherd or we would be in real trouble.

Watch the video and see how this spider combs his whiskers. Isn’t he dear? However, he never jumped! I believe that it was too cold for him to be jumping. Stay tuned—I’ll get some video of these spiders jumping this coming season.