Bugs!

Driving the twenty-five miles to Lakeland today I could hear the constant raindrop splatter on my windshield, not of rain, but of the love bugs. The windshield washer won't clean them off so I drove peering through a smear. Every September and every April we have to endure these pests. They don't sting or carry any diseases I know of. They are just there in such numbers, insinuating themselves into any open door or window, flying slowly in tandem, intent on their inner karma. Then they die in piles on the windowsills and floors, and of course on our cars. So we all become love bug undertakers for a few weeks twice a year.

But when the love bugs come it is also the glorious peak season of the spiders and the butterflies. The hummingbirds left right on schedule for their flight back to Mexico on September 4th. I haven't seen any monarchs lately. Perhaps they drafted a ride back to Mexico with the ruby throats.

The late summer wildflowers and the butterfly attractors I've planted are covered with a moving mist of colors. Yellow sulphers seem to love the native red sage and the Mexican petunias are covered with white peacocks and giant swallowtails. Zebra longwings love the passionflower vines. I spend time meandering around the yard, delighted with this late summer extravaganza. Occasionally, I'll see a caterpillar. I'm finding the Audubon butterfly handbook pretty good at helping me identify them.

By far the very best of the September wildlife around here is the spider population. I find these creatures so beautiful and fascinating. Those HUGE golden orb weavers are strong women! It has been a bountiful summer for them and they are very large, and getting bigger with each love bug they ingest. They have amazing fluffy leggings on their legs. There are at least six of them in near proximity to my daily routes. There is the one we have to duck under who has made her web across the walkway from the porch door. Her spouse, a tiny skinny guy, waits patiently (and warily) in the periphery of her web. He's hoping for a gig some night.

This morning I saw a huge owl take off and I wanted a closer look. Striding down the lane into the woods, I ran into a huge mess of sticky golden web. I did the Florida Flap, a kind of whole body dance step we all do when we unexpectedly get into too close contact with the insect fauna. These golden orb weavers, at maturity, must have a leg span of about four or five inches. They make a two layer web; the orb is backed up with a layer of untidy silk. They sit at the center, very much in charge.

I also like the yellow garden orbweavers, the argiopes,who adorn their webs with amazing zig-zags. These spiders seem more polite somehow, not so showy, and not so in your face as the golden silk spiders.

When my grandchildren or other kids come, if the evening is clear, we go out and do "spider eyes". We walk in the grass and hold flashlights on our heads between our eyes. We look at the ground. I tell them to look for lights sparkling like diamonds, keep it in view and zero in with the flashlight. They are charmed that every single time they can find a spider on the ground. I think these are some sort of wolf spider.

I have lived in the northeast for many years so I know about the bugs they have there. No roaches! They do have those horrid black flies, gnats that stay all summer and make any outside activity an endurance contest, and the prevalence of disease-bearing ticks to scare any normal person who just wants to hike in the woods. Give me Florida any day or season. Our bugs are huge, and with the exception of love bugs, they are interesting if you want to get aquainted, and avoidable if you don't. Yes, I am considering the mosquito population. I do live on the edge of the Green Swamp. We keep our old tires drained, pay attention to any standing water, and use mosquito dunks. We have no problem.

Folks, it won't take your soul to make an online comment. You're anonymous (as am I). Just click on the comments line at the bottom.