Summer 2021 has to be a good year for the insect world. There are more bugs than I can remember seeing in the past few years. Fortunately, I’m not particularly squeamish about bugs – I can take them or leave them. Some are pretty, some are destructive, and some are painful.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen more butterflies, moths, and dragonflies than I have recently. I love lightning beetles and was delighted to see a record number of them here again this summer.
Noticeable by their absence this year are all the large, scary-looking spiders that have been seen on our farm in recent years. I usually saw her from the second half of July to September. Or maybe I should say I didn’t see them, but I often unknowingly walked into one of their oversized cobwebs – and then started flapping my arms to make sure the spinner of the web wasn’t crawling on me somewhere. I don’t mind little spiders like Daddy Long-Leggers, but the spiders I’m referring to look like they’re supposed to be extras in a horror movie. Maybe they’ll be shooting somewhere else, on location, in 2021.
If there is one bug that I have not been happy about lately, it is the return of the spotted lantern fly in its various stages. Though fortunately their numbers seem to be fewer than last year, I still find them nibbling on the leaves of my vegetables and flowers. They are so pretty, I hate killing them, so I always remember how destructive they are to the trees and other plants they feed on. I think they should be renamed “Leaping Bean Beetles” because they can hop away in an instant, just like we swing the fly swatter. I’ve found that they don’t have eyes in the back of their minds, so approaching them from behind is usually the best way to get a direct hit.
The bugs that are bothering us the most on our farm this summer are the stinging ones. We always have a lot of bumblebees buzzing around driving our Airedale terrier Tillie crazy. She looks like she’s doing a circus act and walks around on her hind legs, snapping her teeth at every bee she can reach. Fortunately for her, she rarely connects. Fortunately for us, they’re not a particularly aggressive species.
Unfortunately we seem to have attracted a few less friendly visitors to our farm. At the beginning of August, the building contractor, who was painting some metal roofs for us, made us aware of a large gray ball that was attached under the overhang of our washhouse roof. It was a humming colony of wasps. I ran a run over to a homeware store and grabbed her last two cans of wasp and hornet spray – which led me to believe we won’t be the only ones dealing with wasp warriors this summer.
Although Dennis is allergic to some insect bites, he tried a sneak attack on the wasp’s nest in the dark. Unfortunately, we have a motion detector light in this area that kept coming on no matter how he tried to avoid it. He did his best and sprayed the nest from a safe distance. In daylight, we found that his spray application was only partially successful. And I was soon to discover that some of the survivors had moved inside the wash house, where I fetch water for my sheep and goats every day.
Attack!
While we were thinking about our next step, the need arose to mow some lawn. I had just enough time to mow the farmhouse lawn before grabbing a bite of dinner and going to choir rehearsal. When I did my first lap, something hit my neck. Assuming it was just another annoying lantern fly, I knocked it away and whizzed with the ride-on mower.
Around the time the mower and I were pulling even the pretty blooming crepe myrtle outside our raised porch, I felt several touches on my shoulders and head. I thought maybe I had just got too close to the spreading branches of the crepe myrtle – until I felt a sharp pain on the bridge of my nose. That’s when I realized that I was being attacked by some very nasty little winged insects. I started flapping my arms when I hit the mower’s accelerator, but that didn’t help much.
As I began to feel more pain on the side of my nose, I suddenly realized that one of the stinging insects had flown under my glasses and couldn’t escape. I partially knocked my glasses off my face and raced on while some of the attackers chased briefly.
I ran to put some ice on my sore nose, which was swelling until I couldn’t bear to wear my glasses anymore. I announced my absence to the choirmaster, took an antihistamine tablet, and spread a paste of baking soda and water on the affected area. Dennis examined the crepe myrtle and said I had been attacked by yellow vests.
We are waiting for the exterminator to arrive as I write this. No more amateur lessons – we want these mistakes to go away for good!
