November grasshopper

It was chilly overnight, and in the low 30s by daybreak, so I wasn't all that upset that I couldn't get out early and walk. Then, too, there was deadline writing to be done, so I made coffee, sat down, and got right to it. I had finished by around 11, and I promptly hit the road. It was still cool, maybe mid-40s, and it really felt like November. I walked quickly to generate some heat, and after about a half-mile or so, I had warmed to the task. So, I discovered, had the local grasshoppers, who were soaking up the sunshine in the meadow and jumping with reckless abandon in advance of my footsteps. One well-known nature writer—I believe it was Hal Borland, but I can't confirm this—noted that this was the month in which grasshoppers lost their hop. Clearly, these orthopterans hadn't read that essay. I don't know what species this guy belongs to, but he and his colleagues continue, despite the frosts of recent mornings, to generate plenty of lift. The grasshoppers of the nearby meadow haven't called it a season. Yet.