If bird song characterizes the
mornings of spring, then summer
afternoons surely belong to the
singing insects known as “grigs.”
July in northeast Ohio isn’t
complete without the musical
chirping of crickets and the buzzing
drone of cicadas.

It doesn’t take a scientist to tell us that cricket song is soothing while cicadas can be annoying. Entomologists say its because the stridulation of the cricket produces a relatively pure, lower tone, while the vibrating membranes of cicadas produce multiple, competing sounds of higher frequencies. That cacophony is then amplified in the large hollow chamber that comprises most of the cicada’s abdomen.

Ancient Greeks valued cricket song enough to construct elaborate and decorative cricket cages out of rushes or barley stems. An old poem tells of a young girl lulled to sleep by her pet cricket, while her amour scolds a noisy cicada lest it wake her.

As afternoon becomes evening, crickets remain but cicadas retire. Katydids, another musical grig, add a soft rhythm to the cricket chorus with their alternating accusations of “Katy did…Katy didn’t!” Venture out into the garden under July’s Full Thunder Moon, and find a seat among the moonflower, nicotiana, datura and hosta. The pale, moonlit glow of these flowers, along with their sweet fragrance, beckons pollinating moths. Listening to the singing grigs in this setting reminds us how rich our lives become thanks to these simple insects of the garden.