Bugged

One of the joys of living where we do is the abundance of wildlife of all types. Nothing too dramatic: we're not talking African safari or Alaskan cruise level menageries. Rather, there's a seemingly endless supply of squirrels and chipmunks, a constant stream of deer, and a wide variety of birds that frequent our neighborhood. It's not uncommon to find wild turkeys walking around the yard along with the occasional fox, and bats flitting above. There have also been numerous sightings of wandering bears in the area, though not in our backyard. And I was startled when a tree frog popped out of our deck umbrella and settled in as a guest at an outdoor dinner party. 

But by sheer numbers nothing compares to the range of insects that buzz, crawl, fly and hover whenever we walk about, and that's hardly surprising. Most authorities agree that there are more insect species that have not been described than those that have been previously named. According to scientists at the Smithsonian, the number of living species of insects has been estimated to be 30 million, and cumulatively they have the largest biomass of any land-based animals. At any time, it is estimated that there are some 10 quintillion (10,000,000,000,000,000,000) individual insects alive. 

This in spite of the fact that there is widespread concern about the decline in specific insect populations (bees, butterflies and dragonflies to name a few). As a critical part of our food chain, specifically agricultural production, the decline has broad implications. Beyond pollinating the plants we eat, they also break down waste in forest soil and form the base of a diet for other animals. You can blame habitat loss, pesticides and climate change, but the fact is that being bugged less is not necessarily a good thing. 

Like almost everything else however, unless you are an entomologist, the macro trends are hard to follow and seem distant. Meanwhile, if you are a civilian, that wonder and worry is more likely replaced by annoyance. I understand that mosquitoes provide a valuable food source for bats, frogs and fish, but do they have to spend their off hours on my deck? Recent figures indicate that there are more than 200 million insects for each human on the planet, and at least some of them seem to have been given my direct number. 

Especially in the summer months I routinely take walks, usually at the end of the day. These are hardly in the deeply forested Green or Blue Ridge mountain ranges, nor even in nature preserves around me. Rather they are on neighborhood roads and streets, though admittedly abutting the plentiful green spaces that are in our area. And more often than not, whether I go solo or with my wife or a friend, I am also accompanied by a bug.

I say "a bug" though sometimes he or she brings a friend. It's almost as if they are waiting for me at the top of our driveway or as I exit my car, and fall into step next to me. I rarely get a really good look other than to note that they are tiny gnat-esque creatures who seem to enjoy buzzing about. They don't sting, they don't threaten, they don't land, they just... buzz. I wave them off, but they circle around and come right back as if they are afraid they might miss a minute with me. 

As with attracting or repelling all insects, opinions are divided on the best course of action. Some say light clothing draws them in, others say dark. Some say they are attracted by the heat our bodies give off, some say it's the sweat we produce or other bodily odors. Most likely these fellows are Liohippelates, very small "true" flies with just two wings vs. four, and are attracted to fluids secreted by the eyes, nose and ears. That explains their propensity to hover around my head.

With a life cycle as short as 11 days, it is unlikely that the same bug has singled me out and is just waiting to join me on my constitutional. More likely I am playing host to an extended family: brothers, parents, cousins-once-removed who are in the area and are invited along for the ride. Or as put eloquently by writer Rusty Foster, who is current working his way down the Appalachian Trail, "I became a moving ecosystem, with entire generations of black flies meeting, falling in love, mating, raising their young and dying within a three-inch radius of my eyeballs, which apparently weep the sweetest nectar imaginable judging by how many of them gave their lives to taste it just once." 

We may be the top of the food chain, but based on their ubiquity and the fact they were here first, the bugs do deserve some deference. I am happy to let them buzz about our flowers, have a field day in our gardens and spend as much time as they like in the lawn. But can we at least come to an arrangement? You let me walk and listen to my podcast without waving my arms like I'm guiding a plane to a jetway, and I promise to leave the bug spray at home.  Deal?

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford likes just sitting on the deck without having to swat. His column appears weekly via email and online http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/ and https://marcwollin.substack.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.