I saw an insect I didn’t know the other day on the red roses.

It was about 1/2 to 3/4- inch long, the color of a green apple, and had the longest front antennas I’ve ever seen. The antennas had to be over an inch long, seemed to be iridescent, and had tiny alternating bars of darker/lighter colors.

It didn’t take long to figure out what it was: a katydid, also known as a “bush cricket” in some places. It’s kin to grasshoppers too. It’s a jumper, with big hind legs. Yes, she/he jumped immediately when it saw me looking. And it did look like “a walking green leaf”–the description I found along the identification way.

Katydids are not worrisome pests in a garden as they only eat a tiny part of upper leaves on shrubs and trees. They are prey for a lot of other insects and birds. There are many types of katydids across the world, some do eat other insects and some can be much bigger. But the one I saw is common in tropical/warm climates like the southern United States.

Here’s an image I found:

I mentioned seeing a katydid in my roses to a neighbor, and he laughed and said, “What! You’ve never seen one? We used to try to catch them.”

If I had seen one as a child at my grandparents’ house in Georgia–and there was a big garden–I have no memory of it. Hummingbirds, yes, but not katydids.

The night-time calls from Katydids are VERY loud apparently–and their calls are very distinctive. They make the call by rubbing their wings together. (There is a link below where you can hear them–and I’m now wondering if part of what we have all been calling “frogs” is at least partly Katydids.

Here’s more info:

https://biokids.umich.edu/critters/Tettigoniidae/

For sound:

https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=katydid+sound&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:803dcd02,vid:cxIzRw1BToI,st:0

AND, note there are LOTS of poems that include katydids, which you can find on poetrysoup.com

https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poem/a_summer_afternoon_18901#google_vignette

A Summer Afternoon

by James Whitcomb Riley

 A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze,
With labored respiration, moves the wheat
From distant reaches, till the golden seas
Break in crisp whispers at my feet.


My book, neglected of an idle mind,
Hides for a moment from the eyes of men;
Or lightly opened by a critic wind,
Affrightedly reviews itself again.


Off through the haze that dances in the shine
The warm sun showers in the open glade,
The forest lies, a silhouette design
Dimmed through and through with shade.


A dreamy day; and tranquilly I lie
At anchor from all storms of mental strain;
With absent vision, gazing at the sky,
"Like one that hears it rain.
"

The Katydid, so boisterous last night,
Clinging, inverted, in uneasy poise,
Beneath a wheat-blade, has forgotten quite
If "Katy DID or DIDN'T" make a noise.


The twitter, sometimes, of a wayward bird
That checks the song abruptly at the sound,
And mildly, chiding echoes that have stirred,
Sink into silence, all the more profound.


And drowsily I hear the plaintive strain
Of some poor dove .
 .
 .
 Why, I can scarcely keep
My heavy eyelids--there it is again--
"Coo-coo!"--I mustn't--"Coo-coo!"--fall asleep!