Moving to west Texas, home of the giant tarantula, was horrifying for me. People talked about how, after a rain, the tarantulas would run across roads at night. Some said that if you drove over them, the car tires would flip them up inside of your car. I don't even know if this is possible, but when is terror affected by facts? Just the thought gave me the willies.
Imagine my discomfort when I discovered a little shop of horrors, right there on the Texas Tech campus. Someone had the clever idea of exhibiting a live arthropod display in the agriculture building where I had to pick my husband up from school. There were tarantulas, scorpions, fire ants, Madagascar hissing roaches, black widows and brown recluses. Spectators would gather at feeding time. Maybe they were thrill seekers, waiting to see if a venomous monster would escape to ravage the campus. Or perhaps they were sincere naturalists, learning about the habits of these infamous creatures. But it was at feeding time that I decided the spider was not the most despicable of earth's inhabitants.
The scolopendrid centipede grows to 12 inches in length. Its yellow legs stand out against its bright blue-green body and orange head. When a graduate student would toss cockroaches to the various insectivores, the centipede boorishly sprang to action. It chomped on its first roach, then passed the victim back to its hind forty (legs, that is). Then it grabbed another roach and sent it back to the middle legs. Then it went for yet more food-with always a part of it grotesque body in motion. It looked like a small version of a dragon or sea serpent or some other malevolent beast from a medieval tale. The spider by contrast, gently anesthetized her victim, then went about her other duties. Free to relax and watch her because of the layers of glass between us, I recognized for the first time how graceful and delicate the spider's movements were. Perhaps it sounds strange, but at that moment my fear changed to respect.
After 20 years of marriage, I cannot imagine how different my life would be if I were not married to an entomologist. Perhaps my children would never have learned to catch insects, and then, never would have known that frogs' mouths light up after they eat lightning bugs. I might not have ever witnessed cockroach races, noticed museum displays of jewelry made out of beetles or seen a grown man amuse his children by pretending to shave his face with a buzzing cicada.
Did you know that a large wasp known as a cicadae killer will grab a cicada, then let it go if it buzzes? It is because the males, the only cicadas that buzz, are hollow. The wasp wants to line her nest with the meatier females. When she gets a hold of a rich, juicy female cicada, it is too heavy for her to fly off with. She must drag it up a tree to gain altitude to make her flight home.
Have you ever wondered how to catch a walking stick? Since these strange-looking creatures always walk up, simply place a box over them, and they will crawl right into it. Most terrestrial insects demonstrate this tendency toward negative geotaxi, which simply means they walk up things. Perhaps you have never wondered about this phenomenon. That's fine, but think how impressed your friends will be when you use the phrase "negative geotaxi!"
I know that there are many people who think it is strange to give so much time and attention to insects. Some think that bugs are creepy and germy. I'm not saying that I love all bugs, but over time I have learned to find the awesome diversity of the insect kingdom, like all of nature, to be utterly fascinating. Yes, I am a convert. I now join my husband in admiring all of God's creatures-even the six-legged ones.
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Appendix
The Top 10 Reasons it's Good to Know an Entomologist
1. He or she can correctly identify the insect that just stung you.
2. Bug collections make lively conversation pieces.
3. Answering the door with a hissing cockroach on your head is a great way to get rid of sales people.
4. He or she can explain all of the unrealistic aspects of movies like Arachnaphobia or A Bug's Life.
5. In the event of world famine, he or she can recommend which insects are the tastiest, most nutritional.
6. He or she will graciously inform you as to which insects are beneficial to mankind (and lecture you that you should not stomp on them).
7. They are a good source of science fair ideas.
8. They know great ways to kill insects.
9. They know an enormous amount of trivia.
10. They keep you on your toes on April Fool's Day.
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About The Author
Vicki Edwards is a freelance writer who is fascinated with nature, and has grown to tolerate, if not appreciate some of the finer qualities of insects.
She has also written a children's book, "The Magic Razor."
Author's home page: http://hometown.aol.com/edwardsdr/myhomepage/books.html
Bugs in My Freezer Page 3
