I like the sounds of the crickets chirping outside of my bedroom window. For me it is a summer sound. Except for a short time of living in an apartment in Chicago, I’ve always lived where one could hear the crickets in the night during part of the year. I know that crickets don’t chirp in the manner of birds. And they don’t sing in the manner of humans. They produce their sound by rubbing the edge of their forewing against a scraper on their body. Most females don’t make the sound and the song has been labeled as a courting song emitted to attract female partners.

The rate of the sound is dependent upon temperature. If you listen carefully, you can tell how warm or cold it is outside. At about 50 degrees the rate is around 60 beats per minute, the same rate as the human heart. Warmer and the crickets speed up. Cooler and they slow down. At 40 degrees, they slow to only 15 beats per minute. Below 40 you probably aren’t going to hear them.

A couple of years ago there was a sound file that circulated on the Internet that was a recording of crickets slowed down. The result sounded a bit like a chorus, with many harmonies layered. Later, it was revealed that the sound clip involved quite a bit of arranging of the sounds to make the harmonies that are so pleasant to human hearing. Still, the basis of the arrangement was the sound of crickets and it was quite nice.

There are plenty of stories of crickets in Japanese and Native American cultures. In both cultures crickets are said to bring good luck, vitality and long life. It is said that if you find a cricket on your hearth, you will have good luck for thousands of years to come. Crickets entering your home is supposed to be a sign of good luck.

It can also make it difficult to sleep. Those critters can be loud. And they always sound better outside of my window than inside of it. Still, out of respect for the tradition and with a sense of obligation to care for all of God’s creatures, I try to avoid killing crickets, even when they come into my home. Spiders, unfortunately, rarely get the same treatment unless they are of a particularly unusual or interesting species. As house guests, they are obligated to live by the house rules, which include: “no spiders allowed.”

So, a couple of nights ago I heard a cricket singing in my library. I knew immediately that the creature was inside. I’d had the door open earlier in the day and I’m sure it just hopped right on in at that time. Armed with a small hand-held strainer that is good for trapping crickets without injuring them, I started to look for the creature. It was on the window ledge above my library table - probably listening to the crickets outside the window.

I needed a plan. Removing the screen to allow the cricket to jump outside is a complex maneuver and I was pretty sure the cricket would choose a new location long before I got that done. It seemed best to use the strainer to trap the cricket on the window sill and then slide a piece of paper under the strainer and transport him out through the door. I prepared my move.

The cricket jumped as I tried to drop the strainer on him. He landed in the garbage can. Good luck already, I thought. I picked up the garbage can to carry it outside where it could be emptied temporarily. It only contained paper, which could be picked up after the cricket returned to his natural home.

The cricket, however, had other ideas and jumped from the garbage can onto the carpet and scurried under the desk. It was dark under there so I had to find a flashlight. By the time I located the cricket, he had crawled under a baseboard heater, where I wouldn’t be able to touch him with the strainer.

I could have brought out the heavy guns. I don’t really mean a gun, only the vacuum cleaner. You suck up the bug and empty the dust container on the compost pile. It works for spiders as well. It may be a bit of a rough ride for the cricket, but I know of others who have survived similar treatment.

By the time I returned with the vacuum cleaner the cricket was nowhere in sight and I was tired so I closed the door and went to bed.

The next morning as I was sitting in my chair, the cricket boldly hopped across the carpet. Not having the strainer, I grabbed a small tupperware container and dropped it over him. Soon a piece of paper was slid under the container and the insect was carefully transported outside where he was allowed to jump away into the grass.

Ever since, I’ve been able to hear the crickets chirping outside of the window, and I imagine my guest to be among those who are sticking close to the house, but have no real way to know which cricket is which.

I’m not sure why I invested the energy in the process. I’m not much for superstition. I don’t really believe in luck per se, though I’ve been the recipient of plenty of good fortune. I’ve never lived where there is a war. I’ve not been the victim of natural disaster. I’ve avoided starvation and the lack of clean drinking water. I’ve had a wonderful family and have not suffered abuse. I guess you could say that I’ve had plenty of good luck. But, for the most part, I don’t think of it as luck. It is just the way things are.

Since I don’t believe in evil spirits, I have no need of charms or crickets trapped in boxes and held against their will to ward of such spirits.

Still, I got a story to tell and a blog subject out of the encounter, which seems to me to be good fortune.

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