No insects chirped.

Leaves crackled beneath their feet, insects chirped, the air smelled clean and woodsy.

A few insects rustled and chirped in the short spring grass.

Not even insects chirped, and the only living things were a vulcrow, a pony, and a damned idiot.

Outside, local insects chirped and buzzed, filling the swamp with their noises.

"Leaves were dusted with silver, insects chirped and screeched, cool dew moistened the dry earth below."

Not an insect chirped, not a bat winged overhead, not a single dog howled in the distance.

It was a horde of scarlet insects, wing-backed and hideous, chirping like the incessant chorus of a nightmare.

Writing in the journal Nature, they describe a series of experiments on crickets that shows that sound-processing neurons effectively shut down while the insect is chirping, preserving sensitivity for those times when it is not.

Caimans bellowed, frogs croaked, insects chirped and buzzed, birds shrieked.