Meadow froghopper (Philanus spumarius) Photoby Charles J Sharp – Own work, from Sharp Photography, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38317620)

Dear Readers, as I was laying sadly on the sofa bed last night, waiting for my painkillers to kick in and wondering what position would be least painful for my leg, I felt a sudden ‘ping’, and a froghopper landed on my hand. What a surprise! I can only imagine that s/he came in when my husband brushed against the lavender in the front garden (which was full of cuckoo spit), or maybe from some laundry left briefly in the living room. But how s/he cheered me up! A bug for Bugwoman!

Two froghoppers on the back of a buddleia leaf (2023)

These insects really do look like tiny froglets – they start off green, as in the photo below, and gradually turn brown. They do little harm to plants, and are amongst the most impressive jumpers in the invertebrate world – a froghopper can jump up to 70cms, which considering it’s only half a centimetre long is a considerable feat.

Newly-emerged froghopper

Indeed, new research has shown that froghoppers are able to outperform insects that are much more famous jumpers, such as fleas -they can jump higher compared to body size, and can accelerate their heavy bodies four times faster. In fact, the force exerted during a froghopper jump is 414 times their bodyweight, compared to fleas (135 times), locusts (8 times) and humans (2-3 times). In short, what I had on my finger was a creature of Olympian abilities. I took the time to observe this most unlikely athlete, with its short legs and stubby body, for some minutes before it started to become restless, repositioning itself several times. I waited to see what would happen and indeed, it wasn’t long before ‘my’ froghopper decided to take themselves elsewhere. I felt the ‘ping’ as it catapulted itself across the vast, bleak plains of the duvet cover. I hope that it found the pot plants so that it had something to feed on!

The great thing about being interested in nature, and in particular in invertebrates, is that you’re pretty much never alone. There’s always a moth in the clothes cupboard, an ant appearing from between the floorboards, a spider in the window frame or a bumblebee bashing itself against the window. And every time, my curiosity is piqued, and I’m taken out of myself for a few minutes. Such occasions remind me that nature is always going on, doing its ‘stuff’ regardless of our personal situation, and that I’m part of a great interweaving of plants and animals, just one more organism amongst many. I find it strangely comforting.

So, in other news today we have put together a wheelchair, so soon I should be able to brave the pavements of East Finchley and go outside to see what’s been happening. As soon as it stops raining, that is…..