07/19/2024
The Run Of The Grasshopper Brigade
{Part Five – The Final Effort}......by Louisa "Lou" Maness
7/19/2024
Howdy! Good to see you again. You must be ready to see who won this war!
First, let’s start with some REAL info for you all.
From Oxford dictionaries, let’s define “brigade”. A brigade is a subdivision of an army, usually about 3,000 to 5,000 men; “drafted” into service. A citizen’s militia that is drawn up under an organized military to become trained and organized in an emergency defensive, or extraordinary offensive, situation.
From Encyclopedia Brittanica: Grasshopper- any of a group of jumping insects (suborder Caelifera) that are found in a variety of habitats. Grasshoppers occur in greatest numbers in lowland tropical forests, semiarid regions, and grasslands. They range in colour from green to olive or brown and may have yellow or red markings.
(Brittanica [website] https://www.britannica.com/animal/grasshopper-insect; July 17, 2024 -updated)
General information from farmers and exterminators. The grasshopper has numerous nicknames and groupings. A small group or family is a “cloud”. When they are found in larger groups they become known as locusts and the group names vary from swarm (multiple clouds together) to invasions to plagues.
(From my personal experience living on the Colorado plains) The run on grasshoppers on the plains of Colorado is a mid-Summer, dry heat ordeal that can last between two weeks and six weeks. It rarely plays out past four weeks, and the worst of it is at the apex of the run, usually lasting about four to five days. Grasshoppers don’t care if the food source is fresh and green, they just care that it’s there. The hotter it is, the more aggressive and ornery they are. Without pesticides (or a huge army of critters that eat grasshoppers of your own) controlling a strong run is the farmer’s and gardener’s worst nightmare of the Summer, and is often futile; and we usually end up just waiting out their course.
*****NOW….. BACK TO THE STORY…*****
The rest of the day on July 8th, we walked through the yards gingerly as we did our chores. We did not want to step on the toads or lizards, and we were immensely aware that the snakes would be slithering out to take advantage of the field mice coming out to play.
We have cats and bull snakes, so our chances of coming across a prairie rattler are slim. Slim meaning there is still a chance of a rattler hiding under a bush somewhere.
The yard stayed quiet while every human and critter worked our ways through our own business. But the blackbirds had occupied the trees on the perimeter of the property, while the other birds were more diligent in their own nests. The hawk snatched a couple of mice and went into hiding for several hours and the owl had settled in for his nap.
The day faded away.
For several days the yard was managed by the birds, the toads, and the mice; as though in patrols. The cats would have to swat remnants of leftovers out of their water dishes. They began complaining about the other critters not cleaning up after themselves, but were grateful for the mouse population that had emerged.
It felt like nature was balancing out.
Then Sunday morning, July 14, Mike stepped outside with his first cup of coffee and went to the firepit in the front tear drop to make it ready for an outdoor Bible and worship time with Dad. As he took his first few steps into the grass there, the frenzy began. Bush crickets swarmed up out of the prairie grass and covered the pergola and firepit, all of the furniture out there, and the wood piles. Mike swatted at the ones in his way, hoping to move them and get a fire started, but they weren’t budging.
He turned to walk back into the house when they decided to cover him. He swatted and swiped and they didn’t cling to him to him for long. But he’d had enough when a couple landed in his coffee.
He came in the house and grabbed the only insect spray we had; for flying insects. Two cans. He marched to the teardrop like he was leading the nutcracker army into battle. He began spraying everywhere as his feet touched the edge of the driveway into the teardrop. He told the other critters “Get back guys. It’s my turn. And I don’t want you sick.” The grasshopper blankets began subsiding, diminishing into the grass little by little.
Mike walked the whole teardrop, spraying where he could see clouds of the pesky bugs. Then he came back in and admitted; “That probably won’t do anything about them, but I feel better now!”
We did Sunday stuff in the house. The singing of the grasshoppers was too loud for us for most of the day. We checked the calendar from when we first noticed them to the 14th and figured we still have several weeks to go. So we checked reports on various area websites that provide agricultural updates, tips, and educational information to realize that we had probably had these pests since mid June. That means that their run will be over soon!
The night set in and the yard quieted.
Monday morning found the yard suspiciously still. No birds pecking and scratching, and the numbers perched in the perimeter trees were greatly smaller than they had been. The toads were not as visible and the field mice were in hiding again. The lizards had faded back into their holes to ride out the remainder of the heat wave.
As the sun came out, so did the furry four-legged critters that had been hiding since the end of their teardrop dance party. The kittens were playful and their parents amiable and conversational. The hawk was gone and the owl was hooting greetings to everyone.
There was no chirping of insects chattering at each other.
We could hear the birds that were still around singing peacefully.
I took my coffee outside and, after a few moments of enjoyable interactions with the cats, I decided to take a stroll. I walked down by the raspberry bush; where the grasshoppers had been most active in the beginning. My feet disturb some. A dozen, maybe two, flew up out of the grass and away from me. They scattered and hid quickly. Most of them were the tiny ones, like I’d seen in the beginning.
Curious, I walked over to our landscaping supplies yard and stirred up the ground/grass. Again, a few flew up and away from me. I repeated this in the teardrop, with the same results.
The neighbor saw my little excursion as it progressed and walked to the fence to chat. Her first statement was “It’s safe again. As always, the invasion is over as quickly as it begins.”
We chatted until our giant mugs of coffee needed refilled. She told me how crazy it was that all the critters went to war against the grasshoppers. She’d never seen anything like that before.
I asked her quietly, “Never seen, or just never noticed?”
A couple of the lambs from this season sauntered shyly up to the fence to stand near her. She reached down to pet them and said “You see far more in the critter kingdom than most people I know.”
“They’d see it too, if they would only watch and listen.”
Her phone rang and both of our coffee mugs hit bottom so we wished each other a blessed day and went on about our business.
It is now four days since the last battle. The heat wave is past.
The 2024 Run Of The Grasshopper Brigade has been declared officially over. Not just by the critters who have joyously returned to their everyday lifestyles, but by the local reports on neighborhood and regional agricultural media.
Don’t get me wrong, we still have grasshoppers in the yards. They are small and few in number. And they will behave now until their season times out.
*****This story about the things that happen during the annual grasshopper invasions in Colorado was fun to write. Now that the bush crickets are gone, what will the heroes of the yards get up to next? And who will they be?
See you soon with more fun semi-fictional, super embellished, and ridiculously creative critter tales.
Thanks for reading.
