Our closely scheduled, driving-intensive family visit in Kansas had me squirming for long hours in the back seat of the rent-a-car as vast fields of intriguing weeds flashed past. Finally, one hot, bright afternoon, we pulled up to a field beside the Kansas Historical Museum and I hopped out, camera in hand.
"I won't be long !" I called, and headed down a dusty little path. Dozens -- hundreds, even -- of grasshoppers leaped into the air ahead of me. The air, as usual, was thick with the buzzing screed of locusts and their kin -- a sound so loud and penetrating it's even audible in a speeding car with the windows up.