bug_reports epitome of incomprehensibility A small fruit fly was hovering annoyingly near my face. I miss grasshoppers. Summer slides too quickly into fall; it's either too hot or too cold. I want to live underground for a while, but I'd rather not deal with the earwigs. 231019 ... e_o_i Reddish-orange beetles were having a threesome on a mint leaf. One was mounting another and a third tried to join in, hopping on top of the second. But that didn't work for him, so he shooed the second away and got on top of the first. Now, sometimes humans look at other animals being close together and think "Ha, they're fucking" when they aren't, but I'm pretty sure these ones were - their bottom parts kind of joined together. *to be fair, the kid at the Ecomuseum who was asking about the otters was more polite and asked, "Are they mating?" 240715 ... e_o_i Yesterday, the TCT running roughly parallel to Elm Tree Road was hopping. Also buzzing. Grasshoppers, bees, dragonflies, damselflies, regular flies. The highlight was a butterfly that elbowed me, apparently mistaking my sleeve for a flower. It was one of the small reddish-orange ones I saw. The large one like that was a monarch (Their Majesty did not deign to jostle my elbow in the manner of common folk). Or maybe the highlight was the little yellow butterfly that fluttered and twirled as it went ahead, joining another butterfly of the same type...and then, as I walked on, the two came across a third and they were all flying around each other for a few seconds. It looked like they were having a conversation. The moth with yellow-tipped black wings was more reserved, not flitting about other flutterers or bumping into humans, just concentrating on its job. What is its job? I think it's an accountant. 240824 ... e_o_i Oh yes, and today I almost ate a small black beetle. It was in my chili, one of the choices at Arden's annual chili dinner (see my summerlike_sociability today). Mine wasn't an adventurous chili choice, the non-spicy kind with ground beef, not the spicy one or the "wild game" one (though I heard one of the men complaining it didn't taste enough like wild game). My tame game was finding a black spot that looked like half a seed and thinking, "Hey, that looks like a bug." It was - dead, poor thing, with its legs curled up. It was very small. I scooped it out and ate the rest of the chili. Why not? The bug, an accident, perhaps was cooked with the rest, perhaps would be good to eat too, but I wasn't game to be that wild. 240824 ... e_o_i A grasshopper landed on my pants yesterday. The pants are casual ones with stripey spikes around the legs in black, white, yellow, and blue - not much green, but they give an impression of green, maybe. I reached down to touch it and it jumped away in the other direction, surprisingly far. And I just read the scene Soma described yesterday in "bug" - it felt like being there and seeing the unexpected bug myself. 240917 ... Soma I moved my UFO plant and found the home of some unwelcome visitors. A swarm of fungus gnats rose and fled from my investigation into the still-damp soil. 240917 ... raze today a ladybug walked across my right shoulder, its body all but indistinguishable from the fabric it flew from when it left me. coincidental camouflage. a daily visitor danced around my fingers. either one of the smaller yellowjackets i've seen, or a hoverfly. i don't know which. a flying fire ant climbed my shirtsleeve like a vine. a monarch butterfly wheeled and waved above the gate that separates this piece of land from the ginnel of grass beyond. lovelorn crickets sang me out when all the light had gone. 240918 ... Soma A large pine beetle flew from the doorway over to my curtains, just over my head. Startled by the very obvious buzzing noise such beetles make when they fly, I screeched, and turned to see the thumb-sized bug inches from my face. To the vacuum I went, having no tolerance for capturing anything so large and mobile in any cup or container at my disposal. As the wind inside settled back to silence, and I replaced the detachable hose that had unceremoniously dragged away my uninvited guest, there was a tickle at my hand. The beast was still there, clutched to the edges of the tube, antennae surveying my flesh. Another frantic screech and a flurry of movement, the buzz of beetle-flight, the whir of the vacuum, and the sobs of apologies all layered in one sharp moment of time. Then, the rattle of pet kibble bouncing it's way along the detachable tube, as a rising voice yells, "Please, why won't you just die? Please!" Sorry, Mr. Beetle. You deserved better. 241112 ... nr the official bedbug report for the apartment seven floors above you, which has apparently been reported for years, in addition to the lobby for when the tenant slept there, is something you really don't want to hear. 241112 what's it to you? who go blather from