A Year...in Bugs

Enjoy In the Dirt? Become a paid subscriber and score a free ticket to see the Weary Ramblers at Whippoorwill Creek Farm!

---

Thank God the season of ladybugs and flies has finally passed. This year the season stretched on forever, the masses of stinky “Asian lady beetles” showing up in January and pooping small stains on the window still. Like troops sent out to battle, streams of them invaded the house for months, until all fear of frost had passed.

WTF are they all doing? Note small poop smudge behind the mid-top-right beetle. Photo from Are Asian Lady Beetles Invading your House?

The endless hordes were a sign of warming winters, we remarked to each other as we watched the mindless orbs travel across the ceiling like bumper cars in slow motion. What they were doing in their manic daze I never could assess—not once did I catch one “getting busy,” eating, or even drinking.

The flies too, harmless but nerve-wracking in their abundance, clawed at the windows, trying to get out. Who invited them inside? No one, we reminded them, as we sucked them up with the vacuum, daily. The constant low-level buzz droned on like a white noise machine. Then suddenly—POOF—they too vanished from our windows, not to be seen again until next winter.

But now the Creepy-Crawly season of ticks has arrived (God help us) along with their distant, smaller relatives, the gnats. I envision myself a Godzilla-like creature to them, the little buggers dive bombing my face and nuzzling themselves into the back of my ears trying to destroy me.

In April too came the June bugs, well ahead of their namesake date, again because of warmer weather? They are the Jugheads of the bug world, haphazardly flying into everything like a too-big 13-year-old. A strange tap-tap at the window at night? It’s just a June bug. Their massive bodies stay afloat by the mercy of such delicate wings—a thing to behold, if you aren’t too freaked that one just ran into your forehead.

Then there are the bugs that fly in squares. You know, the ones that make abrupt right angle turns, hovering like George Jetson in the middle of your living room. Apparently the squares are a sort of mating dance—a “hey check me out” pattern to attract females. And it is true—I am impressed. Yet to me their most lovable trait is that they keep to themselves, floating around like elevating yogis on tiny magic carpets, but with an attitude. I bet they think they are better than me.

And let’s not forget the legions of ants big and small, who, on a whim it seems, enter the household one at a time scouting the area, then call in the troops, 1000s of them in tidy rows, attacking and demolishing a morsel left on the counter. I am struck by their resourcefulness, their team spirit—what if humans functioned in this way?

But today is a momentous one: the Time of Pollinators has begun. Just yesterday I saw a black butterfly with yellow on its wings (a Black Swallowtail?) its fluttery and vibrant wings invoking in me a sense of awe. How can their wings be as velvety as an Elvis poster and yet so strong?

A wild long-horn bee from The Incredible Diversity of Iowa Bees

And the bees! From tiny specks to bulbous spheres, I admire their tenaciousness and determination. Even the much maligned wasps, the protective and intrepid mothers remind me of the creative spark of spring. And of life.

At least until lady bugs arrive again.

---

The Iowa Writer’s Collaborative puts out a Sunday Round Up and a Wednesday Flipside Edition. Subscribe to learn what’s happenin’ in Iowa!