Field Notes photo by DeMaris Glazier
~ by Jim Eagleman
Insects
The ground was powder dry and bare; the last rain had been weeks before. We stood motionless and dazed as the professor rambled on. The humidity that morning had risen to 80 percent and we knew we were in for another scorcher. A few students fanned themselves with the handout.
“ High temperatures and high humidity create great conditions for insects,” he said.“ While we don’ t do well in this heat, the mosquitos and ants love it.”
A forest ecology class at the university’ s new field station was one of several I enrolled in that June. With no summer job prospect and a chance to take some required classes, I moved into an old farmhouse at the field station. Bunk beds, a small, communal kitchen, and one bathroom made for sparse conditions. Still, I had looked forward to this class and the others for weeks.
“ You will appreciate how well a forest functions if you add the
important role of insects,” the professor said.“ I won’ t make entomologists of you this summer, but we will certainly view insects in a more positive light than what you previously thought.”
Our schedule for the next few days was to visit the property’ s many habitats, located on the upper bluffs of the Mississippi River in western Illinois. There were hilltop prairie remnants, deep forest ravines, and many streambeds that fed into the river. Our hikes to each place allowed us to discuss and speculate, with a lot of stopping to inspect leaf litter, tree bark, and plants. Insects played a major role as plant and animal relationships were examined.
Several times I thought the class should be renamed. Instead of forest ecology, it should rather be called“ bugs of forest and glade.” We saw pollinators visit flowers, leaf miners chisel their way along plant veins, and ants carry leaf cuttings to their underground home. A yellowbilled cuckoo flew from a small cherry tree with webbing, the forest tent caterpillars a part of its diet.
Insects viewed in a more positive light than what we thought? The professor might be right.
A box turtle stopped us, and a reference was made to its cold-blooded lifestyle. The professor reminded us that all insects are also cold-blooded. As temperatures rose under the canopy, humid, still and motionless, sweat trickled down my arm. A stink bug moved rapidly along a tree limb— a lot faster than one I saw earlier. The cold-blooded reptile sat motionless, relying on its surroundings for food, shelter, and comfort level. It may not have been that different from the life of a bug.
We moved into a field overgrown but once grazed by livestock. A large mound
60 Our Brown County • July / August 2025