Tag: spider

Here’s What’s Bugging Me

In the years we raised our family in Colorado we made a lot of friends and acquaintances… but none of them were bugs. Actually that’s not true; every now and then a spider would introduce itself; somehow enduring the region’s high altitude and low oxygen. But the other 99.9% of the world’s insect population flew south for the winter… and stayed there. Or rather, here. Right here on the property where we now live.  On that not-so-exaggerated claim let’s you and I make a deal.  I’ll happily take all of your cicadas, wasps, and fire ants in exchange for my countless gnats.

You-see-um?

A gnat may be the most annoying living thing you’ll ever encounter, (including every last one of your family members).  Anyone who’s experienced an out-of-nowhere cloud of these little dive-bombers knows what I’m talking about.  Gnats are so tiny instead of “now you see ’em, now you don’t” you just say no-see-um.  Gnats are so whiny you’ll swear your ears are being perforated by dozens of microscopic dentist drills.  Finally, gnats have such a sense of smell that once you give off your particular scent (i.e. sweat) they’ll happily follow you to the ends of the earth.

Here’s what a gnat looks like (blown up a million, billion times).  I’m not surprised to see they’re a relatively simple-looking creature.  After all, there can’t be much to something beyond microscopic.  In all fairness, a gnat’s virtual invisibility has to do with a preference for shade, nighttime hours and things that grow.  At least that’s my experience.  I’m out there walking the dog on a humid summer evening and it’s as quiet as the “g” in gnat.  Suddenly the little air force shows up out of nowhere and for the rest of the walk you’re swatting your head every time you hear a dentist drill.  And it’s not like you kill gnats with your swats (or maybe you do but they’re so small you have no idea if you did, so why bother?)

Entering this third summer of my newfound cloud of Southern friends, I decided it was time to go on the offensive.  My wife bought a stack of human-head sized mosquito nets.  These nets work great in that you’ll no longer feel that slightest of sensations when a gnat lands on your ear.  But the little sand grains still knock-knock-knock on the net with their dentist-drill buzzes.  You still swat and you still no-see-um.  Not to mention, a sweaty mosquito net is really uncomfortable.

A month or so ago we were at our local farm supply and came across this product at check-out.  The cashier was all about it, so I figured I’d give it a try.  Gnats don’t like particular botanicals: citronella, lemongrass, rosemary, and geranium, and No Natz has them all in a nice little spray cocktail.  Darned if the stuff doesn’t work!  You put it on like sunscreen, you smell like an entire can of Lemon Pledge, but the gnats keep their distance.  For a little while anyway.  Eventually you sweat off the No Natz and then it’s “mo natz” all over again.

Flower power

I might have to try a batch of pyrethrins instead (my new favorite word). Pyrethrins are compounds found in chrysanthemums which, conveniently, target the nervous system of a gnat.  Gets at ’em from the inside out.  The idea of a gnat spiraling out of control like a wounded helicopter is entirely appealing in my present state of mind.

Per Wikipedia, there is “no scientific consensus on what constitutes a gnat”.  Whichever ones are my new best friends here are harmless because they just buzz around your eyes and ears making their dentist-drill noises.  Other varieties prefer biting and blood so I guess I should be grateful.  Doesn’t make “Gnatus South Carolinus” any less annoying.

Maybe subscribing to the alleged origin of “no-see-um” will put me out of my misery.  The word is rooted in skeptical theism.  That is, if a human (me) thinks hard enough about a given thing (gnat) and can’t come up with a single God-justifying reason for permitting such an organism (nope, not one), AND considering said organism can’t be seen (they’re invisible!) then perhaps I should entertain the notion that a gnat doesn’t really exist.

Figment of my imagination?

Yes, let’s go with skeptical theism.  There aren’t any gnats in South Carolina after all (hooray!)  Ignore the previous 500+ words of this post.  My countless friends were all in my head.  Or uh, around my head?  Whatever.. guess I’m just hearing things.

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Flying Furballs

As I glance out the windows of my home office I’m struck by the calm of a late fall afternoon; the cloudless blue sky with just a whisper of wind through the trees.  I don’t see any aircraft heading to or from the local military bases, nor the white vapor trails they often leave behind.  No flocks of birds heading in perfect formation south for the winter.  No falling leaves spinning to the ground.  Heck, I don’t even see a flying squirrel!

Maybe you caught the story earlier this week.  Seven people locked up in a Florida prison are charged with spearheading a “flying squirrel ring”.  They trapped thousands of the little guys in the wild, laundered them through a dealer (what sort of person deals in flying squirrels?), who distributed them to several buyers.  The buyers then drove to airports around the U.S., where the winged creatures were loaded onto airplanes headed to far eastern countries.  Who knew: there’s a market for flying squirrels as exotic pets?  Asians pay top dollar for them.

Is it just me or is there something a little redundant about shipping a flying squirrel on an airplane?

Also, what kind of a weirdo goes to the trouble to capture, launder, distribute, sell, drive, and transport thousands of flying squirrels halfway around the world?  If you’re going to do something illegal why not deal drugs?  Does a flying squirrel sell for that much?

Here’s another thing I can’t figure.  What do you call a litter of flying squirrels… a “squadron”?

You must admit, flying squirrels probably make the top-ten list of God’s coolest creatures.  The Northern species is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.  They have big doe eyes to help them see in the dark (picture a Disney character).  They forage for fruit, seeds, tree sap, and the occasional bird egg.  They’ve been buzzing the planet for millions of years now – almost prehistoric.

But let’s talk about those “wings”.  Flying squirrels have what’s called a patagium: a furry, parachute-like membrane stretching from tiny wrist to tiny ankle.  When the membrane’s stretched taut they can glide from tree to tree, using their tail for stability.  They can even steer their body like an airplane, using limbs and tail.  How far can a flying squirrel fly, you ask?  How about 300 feet?  Yep, put one of these babies on top of an American football goalpost and he can soar all the way through the other end zone.  “Touchdown”!

“Boo!”

Okay BUT… flying squirrels lost some of their coolness when I discovered this picture.  OMG, that’s just wicked scary.  Can you imagine camping under the stars relaxed in your sleeping bag and you wake up to the rapid descent of that?  I’d NEVER be the same.  And here’s another Halloween-ish detail: flying squirrels glow.  Their underbody fluoresces pink under UV light.  Why?  No idea, but that just makes them creepier.

Maybe I don’t want a flying furball for a pet after all.

I suppose I’d take flying squirrels over some of the other flying organisms out there.  You know about flying fish.  You may even know about flying frogs.  But did you know about the flying squid in our oceans?  Seriously, they can jettison out of the water by expelling water from their “funnel” and travel up to 160 feet.  They can even keep that water blast going in the air for extra distance.  And there you have it: the world’s only jet-propelled aerial locomotion animal.

This is wrong on so many levels…

Now let’s get to the stuff of real nightmares.  How about flying snakes?  Five species in Southeast Asia and India can glide like the squirrels.  They contort their long bodies to be concave (like an upside-down taco shell), which allows them to buoy on a cushion of air.  Not to be outdone by the squirrels, flying snakes can also cover the length of a football field.  They even make mid-air 90-degree turns.  I didn’t have plans to visit Southeast Asia or India anytime soon but now I’m never going.  No way.

Finally, we have the undisputed king of flying nightmares: balloon spiders.  These ungodly insects spin a silky globe along with a sturdy dragline and go for a ride wherever the wind may take them.  If I was talking about one flying spider I might deal with it but these guys travel in packs.  Large packs.  Can you imagine?  An endless assault of mini paratroopers on a mini Normandy, only you are Normandy.  “Incoming!”

“I’ll get you, my pretty…”

You can fill your skies with whatever you want but I’ll pass on flying squids, snakes, and spiders.  I’ll even pass on the Northern squirrel (they only live 5-6 years and have no interest in bonding with humans)  Oh, and for those of you with flying monkeys on the brain, those would’ve been on the cool list if I hadn’t watched Dorothy and her friends at such a young and impressionable age.  Still gets me.

Nope, I choose late fall cloudless blue skies with just a whisper of wind.  No squirrels anywhere in sight.

Some content sourced from the 10/20/2020 CNN article, “Florida officials say several people charged in flying squirrel trafficking operation”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.