Nearly every Karoo farmer has experienced a locust swarm, has seen the skies darken with them, has watched them covering nearly every bush and blade of grass when they settle at night. Once the dew and the morning coolth vanish, they take off and became aerial plankton, thinly spaced but apparently endless: flying, landing, eating and then taking off again. Where disturbed, they make an eerie chittering noise. On bare patches, they mate and lay eggs. Locusts are part of the Karoo's natural cycles, where 'natural disasters' have been observed as unfolding in a mostly predictable sequence over the centuries. Years of crippling drought are typically broken by devastating floods. Veld vegetation rebounds dramatically, only to be knocked back by locusts. And until 1896, the insect swarms would sometimes be followed by mega-herds of trekbokke (millions of migrating springbok following the scent of rain and fresh grass) leaving the veld looking as if it had been scorched by fire. Occasionally, the Karoo caterpillars - commonly known as ruspers - devour the Karoo bossies, then turn into unlovely speckled moths that swirl around outside lights in fluttering clouds. The greatest part of the Karoo food chain, as any observant resident can tell you, rests disproportionately on insects and of course, insect-eaters, from birds to aardvarks. The Karoo veld seems to thrive on brief periods of intense use - to the point of apparent near-destruction - and then long periods of rest and recovery.