Tuesday, May 26, 2009

I don't know what those fuzzy caterpillars turn into.

Spring in Maine is short and intense. Everything blooms at once; at the moment, we have lilacs, rhododendrons, lilies of the valley, violets and irises blooming in my neighborhood, and the first rosebuds are appearing on bushes. The air smells wonderful, except at the edge of my parking lot, where a skunk seems to have sprayed.

But the bugs all come back at once, too: mosquitoes, fleas, ticks, beetles, blackflies, and those ubiquitous fuzzy caterpillars. I took Dizzy down to the river on Sunday afternoon, where he could greet his fans and I could sit on a stone bench and read (Sean Doolittle's SAFER, one of the best books I've read so far this year).

As I was talking to one of my neighbors, I noticed that she was looking at my t-shirt, which said GEORGETOWN. Before I asked, "Did you go to Georgetown?", I looked and saw a big fuzzy caterpillar making its way up toward my collar. I was calm; caterpillars don't scare me. But I am not a tree, so flicked the critter far away from me.

We see lots of butterflies in Maine, including the monarchs, but I suspect these fuzzy caterpillars are just moths. Anybody know?

1 comment:

Karen Olson said...

They're moths. Dull, boring, colorless moths.