13. October 2017 · Comments Off on Splendor On The Grass · Categories: Places · Tags: ,

What does an etymologist call a voyeuristic entomologist? Grasshopperazzi?

grasshoppersonthegrass
03. October 2017 · Comments Off on Widehopper · Categories: Places · Tags:

With the most interesting swoopy aerodynamic enhancement on its back.

Widehopper
14. September 2017 · Comments Off on Conspicuous Consumption · Categories: Places · Tags: ,

Orb Weaver spider gobbling a gone grasshopper…

06. November 2016 · Comments Off on Conflicting Signals · Categories: Places · Tags:

This grasshopper is clearly on the fence. Which way will it jump?

Grasshopper on the Fence
23. October 2015 · Comments Off on Splendor in the Grass · Categories: Places · Tags: , ,

Deep in an overgrown ravine layered with loose loaf-of-bread-sized rocks, in a place where no one would have ever even found my bones, I met this grasshopper. It hid down between stalks at first as I approached. I offered a finger gently. It hopped up and let me take my photos.

Green Grasshopper
13. December 2014 · Comments Off on Leftovers · Categories: Places · Tags: ,

Extras and outtakes from 2014.

19. November 2014 · Comments Off on Dali-ing Around · Categories: Places · Tags:

Phrenologically interesting grasshoppers out in the wild…

Giraffehoppers
12. January 2013 · Comments Off on Contrast · Categories: Places · Tags: , ,

Big pines and blue sky, and a resident that tries to be inhopnito.

26. October 2012 · Comments Off on Cool Weather · Categories: Places · Tags: , ,

Highs in the 80’s? How do we reckon with that? We might sleep in a bit and take a walk in full daylight, maybe even eat breakfast first. My walks have lots of decision spots, more added as I try possibilities; today at one junction my feet chose the detour, dropping down a meandering wash that slowly gets canyon-deep with 50′ red walls through a ess-bend, then as the land flattens it becomes just barely lower than the surrounding ground as it reaches Cienega Creek, at that point a deep rut barred by the thick bared roots of a solo cottonwood. Or more properly it reaches the creek bed, since Cienega is dry at that point.

A walk south for about a mile in the rocky sandy creek bed finds cottonwoods and running water and all the wild life that thrives therein.

Not that the walk down the wash was dead, typical desert staples that can find hidden water were doing well up there; swaths of lush grass tops were everywhere, Desert Broom blooms were unfurled in the sun to a fill brush width and a wasp worked among them, glaring at me when the shutter clicked and displaying its wings. Further along a grasshopper rested on a branch and got pensive at the click of the shutter, moving its legs like a nervous soul at a job interview, but it sat still for me.

And then there were the many near-invisible grasshoppers that cavorted as I walked, waiting until my foot was almost on them and then adroitly leaping to the side, only to then leap back in my path again a few paces ahead and repeat. I had one large lubber bounce off my hat brim in a busy spot, they love to treat me as a moving parkour obstacle. I can’t help but laugh with delight as they go bouncing around, but they are not much for having a photo taken, thus this paragraph.

Along with me as I headed down the wash was a circling hawk, peregrinating out and back with the wind gusts, but always within sight as I made my way. As I turned and started up the creek bed, it called and ran its shadow right across the top of my head as it went over and vanished off to the north.

At the creek: Where there’s water flowing we have dragonflies of wonderful colors, waterbugs proving how long they can sit still on a rock inches beneath the water without making so much as a bubble, and there is algae and the smell of glorious dank mud and leaf mold from decaying cottonwood leaves and shade and coolness and the wistful sound of leaves in the breeze that makes me want to take a nap right there. This is so rare here, so exotic, that it sorta shocks people who visit, they look around gobsmacked, not believing such exists in this part of Aridzona. And yet their feet are so wonderfully cool.

16. October 2012 · Comments Off on Desert Camo · Categories: Places · Tags:

Visitor to my front door today, different coloring than I’ve seen before, and an amazing variety of textures and patterns on it’s armor, reminds me of what are colloquially called “lubbers”. Like many large insects at the end of summer, it is moving slowly and co-operated thoroughly.