Little by Little
Monday, July 18th, 2022 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozefestaudioDid another sound check outside tonight, between 9:30 & 9:50PM.
Out in the back yards, still dead silent. No crickets. Definitely no leaf tappers. But still a good number of lightning bugs out there in the deep dark.
The street, however, is a different story.
Last night I heard old Larry, and two more. Tonight I did a bit of a longer walk up and down the block, even crossing to the other side for a bit... and, while old Larry is still out there... I heard six different newbies, chirping in their different locations.
--<>--
All six were high pitched, and low volume.
Also, all six were the same pitch, and did the same call.
Larry's lower pitched, distress call is like, "Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp! Chirp-chirp-chirp! Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp! Chirp-chirp-chirp!.." in a frenetic tempo.
But the call of the newbies is a steady, "Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp..." in a quick tempo... but not quite as fast as Larry, and with no special punctuation... Like they're just practicing...
And like they're trying to emulate Larry... who they've been hearing for a couple weeks... but who's hard scrap, life of woe, they can but dimly imagine.
The high pitch and low volume says they're just smaller, than full grown larry.
But the fact that they're all the same pitch, says they're all the same size.
And the fact that they're all doing the same call, says they're all peers!
--<>--
But before we look at what this tells us, about the newbies, I want to stop and speculate about the fact that everybody's on the street, and nobody's in the back yards yet.
------------{=0=}------------
Last year, when the crickets in the back yard seemed pretty lackluster, I was still hearing great cricket chirps out by the street.
This was annoying, because the washy car tire sounds make recording front yard crickets totally pointless.
In Larry's case, as a very early loner, who's out by the street, you could argue that he just wound up there after hitching a ride on a car from somewhere down state.
But I think these newbies are native, so if they're also popping up first on the street, it suggests there's something field crickets like about the street...
Especially if they're feeling vulnerable, because they're all alone, like Larry, or just starting out in life.
And since we know they like grass... which the back yards have in abundance... then the only thing the street has to offer is light. Street lamps and porch lights.
25 million years ago, when field crickets evolved to sing in open fields, the moon may not have been around all the time, but the Milky Way was! And studies have shown that noctournal dung beetles actually do navigate by the light of the Milky Way!
So maybe field crickets, who are also noctournal, do prefer a little light, and thus, feel more comfortable out on the street.
If so, then my flood lamp over the back yard this year, will hopefully embolden them back there... once they've arrived in their numbers.
------------{=0=}------------
Okay, let's get back to the newbies I heard tonight... high pitch, and same pitch, at lower volume... which can only mean they're smaller than Larry.
I hear crickets of this same high pitch, and lower volume ever year, in October, and early November... usually during the day, when the sun is shining, and it's still warmish... 56F or so.
I always notice them, because by that point, most of the adult crickets who'd been singing through August and September are gone.
And I always assumed, these higher pitched November crickets were just juveniles who'd hatched late in the season, and weren't fully grown.
--<>--
But the research I'd done back in June all said, crickets don't get their singing wings until their final molt, when they're full grown.
So lately, I began to think... maybe it's just that crickets who don't overwinter in the ground... but who hatch the same summer they were conceived... just don't get as big, in their adulthood.
Like, maybe the November crickets are just runts. Hatching the same summer they're conceived just stunts their growth, because they don't have those long months to pupate in diapause (insect hybernation).
--<>--
But what I heard tonight says that's not true.
I am sticking to my theory, that field crickets get their stridulatory apparatus, on the second to last molt, before they get their sex organs.
------------{=0=}------------
Stridulation, is the scientific term for the chirping of a field cricket.
On many insects, such as beetles, the top layer wing pair is harder, and covers the more delicate flying pairs of wings underneath. This is why they're often referred to as, wing-cases.
For beetles, the wing cases are as hard as their exoskeleton, and when they're closed, you wouldn't suspect they have any wings at all.
For field crickets, the wing cases are translucent and veiny, like flight wings, but tough and leathery.
One wing case slightly overlaps the other.
On the upper side of the underlapping wing case, there's a fine-toothed structure called a comb.
On the under side, of the overlapping wing case, is a small protrusion called a scraper.
When the field cricket raises it's wing cases above it's thorax, and rubs them together, the scraper goes over the comb, and produces a sound... which gets a bit of amplification from the paraboloid shape of the wing cases, like cupping your hands together around your mouth as you call out.
A typical chirp from a field cricket is actually three quick passes with the scraper, back and forth over the comb, in the space of half a second. Like, "ch-chr-rp!"
It's slow enough that you can make out those three quick pulses in the one chirp if you're focused on it.
--<>--
These comb & scraper structures on the wing cases... the stridulatory apparatus... are definitely vital to finding a mate, because that's the only way to call one.
But my argument here, is that they aren't sex organs in and of themselves.
And while it may be true that field crickets don't get their sex organs until their final molt, I think they get a comb & scraper one molt earlier.
And I think that, because I've heard it in years past, at the end of the cricket season, with those late October & November arrivals, and I'm hearing it now, at the extreme start of the cricket season, in mid-July!
These aren't runts. They're juveniles.
They're good wild stock, who overwintered in their eggs. They hatched last April and have been growing and molting all spring and summer. And now... one molt away from adulthood, they can sing!.. even if they can't yet... have relations.
--<>--
From an evolutionary standpoint, this would make sense, because a good musician's gotta have time to practice!
A full grown field cricket, at the top of his game, knows how to do multiple different kinds of chirps. There's the mate call chirp. And when a mate is close they do a softer kind of whisper chirp to draw them in.
They have a victory chirp, after they've done the deed!
And they have aggressive rivalry chirps to intimidate other crickets moving in on their turf!
That's what the YouTube videos tell you, but I think their repertoire is more extensive than that.
You've got Larry, with his distress beacon. And these newbies, with their practice chirps. And I've also heard long lazy chirps.
It makes sense, that they would have ten days to get their chops up with the wings, before that final molt, and show time.
------------{=0=}------------
It'll be fascinating to hear how this develops. Will it be newbies on the street, slowly populating the back yards as they get bigger?
Or will it be newbies popping up everywhere, before there are any adults?
And what about the bush crickets?
And what about the leaf tappers?
°¦}
https://soundcloud.com/snoozefestaudio
Out in the back yards, still dead silent. No crickets. Definitely no leaf tappers. But still a good number of lightning bugs out there in the deep dark.
The street, however, is a different story.
Last night I heard old Larry, and two more. Tonight I did a bit of a longer walk up and down the block, even crossing to the other side for a bit... and, while old Larry is still out there... I heard six different newbies, chirping in their different locations.
All six were high pitched, and low volume.
Also, all six were the same pitch, and did the same call.
Larry's lower pitched, distress call is like, "Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp! Chirp-chirp-chirp! Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp! Chirp-chirp-chirp!.." in a frenetic tempo.
But the call of the newbies is a steady, "Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp..." in a quick tempo... but not quite as fast as Larry, and with no special punctuation... Like they're just practicing...
And like they're trying to emulate Larry... who they've been hearing for a couple weeks... but who's hard scrap, life of woe, they can but dimly imagine.
The high pitch and low volume says they're just smaller, than full grown larry.
But the fact that they're all the same pitch, says they're all the same size.
And the fact that they're all doing the same call, says they're all peers!
But before we look at what this tells us, about the newbies, I want to stop and speculate about the fact that everybody's on the street, and nobody's in the back yards yet.
Last year, when the crickets in the back yard seemed pretty lackluster, I was still hearing great cricket chirps out by the street.
This was annoying, because the washy car tire sounds make recording front yard crickets totally pointless.
In Larry's case, as a very early loner, who's out by the street, you could argue that he just wound up there after hitching a ride on a car from somewhere down state.
But I think these newbies are native, so if they're also popping up first on the street, it suggests there's something field crickets like about the street...
Especially if they're feeling vulnerable, because they're all alone, like Larry, or just starting out in life.
And since we know they like grass... which the back yards have in abundance... then the only thing the street has to offer is light. Street lamps and porch lights.
25 million years ago, when field crickets evolved to sing in open fields, the moon may not have been around all the time, but the Milky Way was! And studies have shown that noctournal dung beetles actually do navigate by the light of the Milky Way!
So maybe field crickets, who are also noctournal, do prefer a little light, and thus, feel more comfortable out on the street.
If so, then my flood lamp over the back yard this year, will hopefully embolden them back there... once they've arrived in their numbers.
Okay, let's get back to the newbies I heard tonight... high pitch, and same pitch, at lower volume... which can only mean they're smaller than Larry.
I hear crickets of this same high pitch, and lower volume ever year, in October, and early November... usually during the day, when the sun is shining, and it's still warmish... 56F or so.
I always notice them, because by that point, most of the adult crickets who'd been singing through August and September are gone.
And I always assumed, these higher pitched November crickets were just juveniles who'd hatched late in the season, and weren't fully grown.
But the research I'd done back in June all said, crickets don't get their singing wings until their final molt, when they're full grown.
So lately, I began to think... maybe it's just that crickets who don't overwinter in the ground... but who hatch the same summer they were conceived... just don't get as big, in their adulthood.
Like, maybe the November crickets are just runts. Hatching the same summer they're conceived just stunts their growth, because they don't have those long months to pupate in diapause (insect hybernation).
But what I heard tonight says that's not true.
I am sticking to my theory, that field crickets get their stridulatory apparatus, on the second to last molt, before they get their sex organs.
Stridulation, is the scientific term for the chirping of a field cricket.
On many insects, such as beetles, the top layer wing pair is harder, and covers the more delicate flying pairs of wings underneath. This is why they're often referred to as, wing-cases.
For beetles, the wing cases are as hard as their exoskeleton, and when they're closed, you wouldn't suspect they have any wings at all.
For field crickets, the wing cases are translucent and veiny, like flight wings, but tough and leathery.
One wing case slightly overlaps the other.
On the upper side of the underlapping wing case, there's a fine-toothed structure called a comb.
On the under side, of the overlapping wing case, is a small protrusion called a scraper.
When the field cricket raises it's wing cases above it's thorax, and rubs them together, the scraper goes over the comb, and produces a sound... which gets a bit of amplification from the paraboloid shape of the wing cases, like cupping your hands together around your mouth as you call out.
A typical chirp from a field cricket is actually three quick passes with the scraper, back and forth over the comb, in the space of half a second. Like, "ch-chr-rp!"
It's slow enough that you can make out those three quick pulses in the one chirp if you're focused on it.
These comb & scraper structures on the wing cases... the stridulatory apparatus... are definitely vital to finding a mate, because that's the only way to call one.
But my argument here, is that they aren't sex organs in and of themselves.
And while it may be true that field crickets don't get their sex organs until their final molt, I think they get a comb & scraper one molt earlier.
And I think that, because I've heard it in years past, at the end of the cricket season, with those late October & November arrivals, and I'm hearing it now, at the extreme start of the cricket season, in mid-July!
These aren't runts. They're juveniles.
They're good wild stock, who overwintered in their eggs. They hatched last April and have been growing and molting all spring and summer. And now... one molt away from adulthood, they can sing!.. even if they can't yet... have relations.
From an evolutionary standpoint, this would make sense, because a good musician's gotta have time to practice!
A full grown field cricket, at the top of his game, knows how to do multiple different kinds of chirps. There's the mate call chirp. And when a mate is close they do a softer kind of whisper chirp to draw them in.
They have a victory chirp, after they've done the deed!
And they have aggressive rivalry chirps to intimidate other crickets moving in on their turf!
That's what the YouTube videos tell you, but I think their repertoire is more extensive than that.
You've got Larry, with his distress beacon. And these newbies, with their practice chirps. And I've also heard long lazy chirps.
It makes sense, that they would have ten days to get their chops up with the wings, before that final molt, and show time.
It'll be fascinating to hear how this develops. Will it be newbies on the street, slowly populating the back yards as they get bigger?
Or will it be newbies popping up everywhere, before there are any adults?
And what about the bush crickets?
And what about the leaf tappers?
°¦}
