THANKFUL FRIDAY
Cindy Maddera
I was terrified of any and all kinds of insects when I was little. Except maybe rolly-pollies. Those were safe and often became pets. Every thing else could easily send me into a screaming terror fit if it was found on my body or in my path. As I got a little older, my fits over insects grew less dramatic but ever present. The day I broke my arm in two, I did so because I jumped from the tree I was in to avoid climbing down around the cicada blocking my path. My dad told me that cicadas will bite. So I chose to exit the tree the dangerous way to avoid a cicada bite.
Cicadas do not bite.
Then, during the summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I spent three weeks at a biology camp. Yes. I know. I’ve always been this nerdy. At biology camp, we tagged baby birds and counted the diversity of trees. We studied sunfish and listened to lectures on dung beetles. We also built bug collections. It was best three weeks of camp I had ever experienced. My parents picked me up at the end of camp and I was unrecognizable, partly because of my epic lobster sunburn and all of the bug bites. But also had this whole new bravery around insects. Thanks to that (free, paid for with federal and state grants) camp I no longer scream in terror at the sight of a bug. Now when some insect lands on my arm or hand, I look at it and say “Oh! Look at you!” before plinking it off my body. Well, except spiders. I’m still suspicious of those, but my philosophy is to just ignore their presence. It’s working out well for both of us.
I am fascinated with how the insect world changes with the seasons. It begins with ants in the Spring time. The Spring rains wake the ants up and send them into our kitchen where we frantically set out the ant bait traps. They are a nuisance, but I can count on them to appear every Spring. June brings the lightening bugs. The lightening bugs are the overture of Summer, beginning with a twinkle of one or two. By the end of June and into July the lightening bug blinks crescendo into thousands in my back yard. Now that we are nearing the end of August, they are mostly gone and I might get a glance of one lonely blink dancing cross the back yard.
Right now, when it is still very much Summer, the cicadas are out and the backyard is roaring with them. They land on the sidewalks and buzz as Josephine and I walk by on our morning walks. They remind me of those hand shake gag buzzers. I see them wiggling out of their old skins and the shells of those skins stuck to the sides of lamp posts and trees. Occasionally, Josephine will snap a cicada up and stand there for a minute while it buzzes in her mouth before spitting it out and looking at with her head cocked to one side. It is also tiny spider season. I come home from our walks wrapped up in barely visible sticky threads. The later mornings and afternoons are filled with butterflies. Monarchs are passing through on their way to the south for a warmer wintering.
This week, I noticed my first leaf hopper of the year, hanging out on a third floor window. It won’t be long until the praying mantis appears. Each insect is a harbinger for the changing seasons and I know that when I start seeing praying mantis and leaf hoppers that Fall is just around the corner. I am by no means a pumpkin spice kind of gal. Nor do I long for sweater weather. I do however enjoy the shift in colors and light that happens in the Fall. And while I am still suspicious of spiders, I am quite in awe and enamored with the various orb spiders that appear right around the time the air starts to turn crisp. It’s easy to see the shifts in the landscapes with the changing seasons. The land changes from gray to pinks, purples and greens, back to a bit of brown and then into crimsons and yellows before all going back to gray. The insect world is not as obvious. They’re small things in a big world, easily dismissed and ignored.
We probably all feel that way sometimes. Dismissed and ignored. Maybe that’s why I’ve been paying attention, more so this year than ever. I am grateful for small things.