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Katydid (family Tettigoniidae, sub-family Pseudophyllinae, aka true katydid,  bush-cricket, long-horned grasshopper), occurs mainly in the crowns of trees and cannot fly, other than to flutter when falling (http://entnemdept.ifas.ufl.edu/Walker/buzz/katydids.htm). We noticed him on our car when we stopped at a stoplight today and we pulled over to take his picture and put him back off in a bush. He complained loudly when Dennis picked him up, gingerly, from the rear, so as not to get bitten.

Katydid poems:

Here’s a link to a beautifully archived edition of a book of poems by Mrs. J.I. McKinney (aka “Katydid”), of Kentucky, 1887. The very first poem is To A Katydid.

http://archive.org/stream/katydidspoems00mcki#page/n11/mode/2up

And here is “To an Insect” by Oliver Wendall Holmes:

I LOVE to hear thine earnest voice,
Wherever thou art hid,
Thou testy little dogmatist,
Thou pretty Katydid
Thou mindest me of gentlefolks,–
Old gentlefolks are they,–
Thou say’st an undisputed thing
In such a solemn way.

Thou art a female, Katydid
I know it by the trill
That quivers through thy piercing notes,
So petulant and shrill;
I think there is a knot of you
Beneath the hollow tree,–
A knot of spinster Katydids,—
Do Katydids drink tea?

Oh tell me where did Katy live,
And what did Katy do?
And was she very fair and young,
And yet so wicked, too?
Did Katy love a naughty man,
Or kiss more cheeks than one?
I warrant Katy did no more
Than many a Kate has done.

Dear me! I’ll tell you all about
My fuss with little Jane,
And Ann, with whom I used to walk
So often down the lane,
And all that tore their locks of black,
Or wet their eyes of blue,–
Pray tell me, sweetest Katydid,
What did poor Katy do?

Ah no! the living oak shall crash,
That stood for ages still,
The rock shall rend its mossy base
And thunder down the hill,
Before the little Katydid
Shall add one word, to tell
The mystic story of the maid
Whose name she knows so well.

Peace to the ever-murmuring race!
And when the latest one
Shall fold in death her feeble wings
Beneath the autumn sun,
Then shall she raise her fainting voice,
And lift her drooping lid,
And then the child of future years
Shall hear what Katy did.

IMG_0473Our neighbor on the corner has planted the corner with a mass of coneflowers. Today we saw a goldfinch there, feeding on the seeds, and lots of bumblebees.

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