Wyoming. Both my husband and I have fallen in love with the place. The kids aren’t quite as enthusiastic as we are about the least-populated state in the union, but the gorgeous vistas and the awesome wildlife keep reeling us back.
In July of 2021, we were out by Grand Teton National Park and stopped to photograph a herd of bison in a field. Don’t worry, this is not your typical bison story that ends with someone getting gored; in fact, I’ll take this moment to point out that I shot these images on a 600mm lens, meaning that we were at a safe and appropriate distance away from the animals. Just don’t approach wildlife. It’s a bad idea.
Anyway, off the soapbox and back to the story. We’d already been running around for a few days and it was definitely not the first field we’d crossed, but when we stepped in this one, everything exploded. It was like a sudden blizzard but the snow on this summer day was blowing upwards and it bounced off us like little hailstones. Once the disturbance settled, we realized that it was grasshoppers. So. Many. Grasshoppers.
Certain types- locusts- begin to overbreed and swarm in certain conditions, and drought on top of an already over-large population led to an explosion of them that summer. This behavior is fairly well known and understood, so mitigation was already put into place by the time of our arrival: Certain areas had been treated against the voracious swarms which would quickly denude vegetation, while others were left alone to limit the insecticide use. It wasn’t til much later that we learned of any of this, but it explained how the swarm seemed localized, which had confused me most.
As we passed through the field toward where we’d decided to set up our tripods, we became a little more used to the groundburst with every step. Though extremely destructive- it’s no mistake that they’re known for being a plague- they have their beauty, too. The cascading insects were amazing to watch, waves of them falling while the next ones are launching themselves into the air. It was like walking through a living crescendo.
The bison, on their end of the meadow, were faring no better as far as the swarming annoyances. Their swishing tails and beleaguered expressions make me hope they found a better place to graze, and that no other plagues befall them- including too-close tourists.
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