Hubbard Fellowship Post – Ashley’s Admiration of Grasshoppers

Ashley Oblander, one of this year’s Hubbard Fellows, has really dived into photography during her time with us. I think you’ll agree she’s doing quite well… It’s just one of her many strong skills. Anyone need an experienced and thoughtful land manager who can write, lead, photograph, and think strategically (among many other strengths)? She’s getting her resume polished up now… Here’s Ashley’s latest post:

My first distinct memory of a grasshopper was the moment I realized that they had wings and could move pretty long distances instead of just hopping around. Other than that memory, grasshoppers have kind of blended into the background for me. I figured they all looked like the tan ones that I saw in my backyard growing up. During my time as a Hubbard Fellow I’ve realized how wrong I was.

Through this past year, I’ve become interested in macrophotography (How could you not when a great photographer like Chris Helzer is your supervisor?). Through that lens, I started seeing a whole little world in the prairie that I hadn’t fully appreciated before. A great illustration of that discovery is grasshoppers.

Sometimes it feels like they’re checking me out just as much as I am them. Photo by Ashley Oblander.

The diversity in this group of insects is crazy. Did you know that there are 108 species of grasshoppers just in Nebraska? One that shocked me the most is a flightless species that can grow up to more than two inches long: the plains lubber. I had no idea that grasshoppers around here could get that big, and wow! They’re impressive, and like so many other species they are beautiful and detailed once you take a closer look.

This is the plains lubber mentioned above. This one let me take lots of photos of it, but that isn’t always the case. Photo by Ashley Oblander.

Another fun thing I’ve learned about grasshoppers is that they can be tricky to take photos of. I can’t even remember how many times I got everything set up how I wanted it to have the grasshopper move to the other side of a stem or leaf to hide from me or fly away completely. It can be frustrating, but it also makes it even more gratifying when I get a good shot.

Here’s one hanging out on a milkweed seed pod. Editing photos from this day led to a fun discovery! Photo by Ashley Oblander.

I didn’t notice the small structure above this grasshopper’s eye in the above photo until I was editing. I was intrigued because I wasn’t sure what it was so I did some research. Turns out it is one of its simple eyes! Grasshoppers have two compound eyes, the big and noticeable ones, in addition to three simple eyes, also called ocelli!  I may have learned that at one point but had totally forgotten. They use these simple eyes to differentiate between light and dark.

Speaking of eyes, who knew grasshoppers’ could be this pretty?! Photo by Ashley Oblander.

Learning about their different types of eyes prompted me to look up other grasshopper facts, and I figured I would share some of my favorites. The grasshopper’s auditory organs are found on the abdomen instead of the head. A grasshopper can eat half its body weight per day (this is impressive, but also why they are considered a pest on crops). If humans could jump as far as grasshoppers, relative to size, we could cover more than the length of a football field in a single jump. Needless to say, they’re fascinating.

One more shot just because they’re interesting to look at. This one was extra exciting to capture because it can be difficult to capture both subject’s eyes sharply. Photo by Ashley Oblander.

My motivation for writing this post was mostly to share my newfound admiration for grasshoppers, but it also serves as a nice reminder for myself. As I work in different places, I won’t discount something because it’s small or I think I’ve seen it before. Slowing down and appreciating the small things that make the world go round can be refreshing, enlightening, and humbling. I encourage you to do the same.

An Unexpected, But Welcome Gift of Light

The kids didn’t have school for a couple days at the end of last week, so we had a pleasant four day weekend together. I did a little work, but also hung out with the boys quite a bit and was generally distracted from the world. This morning, everyone went back to school (including Kim, who was teaching) and I was left to deal with reality by myself. I didn’t like it.

It had snowed lightly overnight and was generally cold and dreary outside. As I sat at my computer, trying to focus on some annual training videos, it started to snow fairly heavily. I was having a hard time focusing on the training, distracted by a low level drone of anxiety over the general state of the world. I needed a break, but couldn’t think of anything to fit the bill. I stared bleakly out the window in a kind of trance, just watching the snow fall.

I went back to the training, but just a few minutes later, I glanced up again. The snow had stopped and the day was becoming considerably brighter. Going over to the window, I looked to the south and saw that the clouds were thinning quickly and there was blue sky appearing in the cracks. I didn’t need any bigger push than that. I put the laptop down, grabbed my camera gear, and went outside.

A very late blossom of false sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides) in our backyard prairie garden.

I started by wandering around our backyard prairie garden and a few smaller native wildflower plantings, enjoying the snow caps on seed heads and other plant parts. There were even some late blossoms on some wildflowers, whose vibrant color contrasted nicely with the fresh snow. Since the sun looked like it was going to stay out for a while, I eventually jumped in the truck and headed over to Lincoln Creek Prairie on the other side of town, where I walked around a little more.

A prairie violet (Viola pedatifida) pod that didn’t quite have time to open before freezing temperatures hit.
The purple prairie clover (Dalea purpurea) on the corner of our lot put out a few late flowers, which drooped to the ground and were partly covered by today’s light snow.
Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta).
Pitcher sage (Salvia azurea).
More false sunflower.
And more purple prairie clover, nestled near the ground in prairie violet leaves.
Seeds of prairie violet, which haven’t yet been explosively thrown from the pod (but will be, as it dries and contracts).

By the time I got back, the world seemed a little brighter, and not just because of the sunlight and (now melting) snow. I thought about how fortunate I am to live where I have easy access to the kind of natural beauty I have around me. I was also very grateful – as always – to have my particular job, which allows me the flexibility to run off to the prairie for an hour or so when the mood strikes me.

I was granted distraction and solace when I needed it today. Whatever brings relief to each of you, I hope you’re all able to tap into what you need in the coming days.