The other day I was in the center of West Suffield, believe it or not, getting ready to go to church when I caught sight of a boxelder bug making his way up the column in the sunshine. Now I’m easily distracted by just about all fauna, especially a prehistoric looking bug. I immediately found some like-minded folks who were happy to be lured outside to look at this bug, along with about a thousand of his best friends, who had congregated near the front steps. We watched his slow motion moves and admired his deliberateness. And, I got to thinking, why is it that we are so drawn to animals in numbers, this huge swarm of insects being far more interesting to most than one or two floundering specimens. This is the time of year for animal mob scenes, whether it be swarms of ladybugs or flocks of geese and grackles. Keep your eyes peeled.
So, naturally instead of bettering myself by listening to the sermon, I was all amped up about the migration that was occurring just out the door. I ran home and scrapped my plan of washing my clothes in the creek. I gathered my antiquated books on bugs and birds and animals that swarm, and spent the day taking that all in.
I learned that the boxelder bugs feed on maple and ash trees. They are dark brown or black with red wing markings and really cool antennae. As the temperatures drop, they look for a warm place to spend the winter, so you might be lucky enough for one or a thousand to try to become your roommates for the season. They hibernate and hope to wake up in the spring to feed and lay eggs. Their Zen-like movements are pretty fetching and remind me to take things down a notch. And they are able to release some bad tasting compound if they are threatened but otherwise pretty much mind their own business.
When I tired of reading about bugs, I moved on to some of the more glamourous migrations that we may witness in our beautiful little town: geese, grackles, cowbirds. Usually I don’t give our grackles the time of day, but now they are gathering en masse, looking like black confetti over our lawns. A rogue car with a loose muffler may set the flock air born, and it is quite a spectacle. I’ve seen cars pull over, paralyzed at the sight, and have certainly put my raking on hold to admire the multitudes against the blue sky. To me it looks like beautiful chaos.
All this talk about flocks and swarms helps New Englanders to hold our heads a bit higher, thinking that the Serengeti is not the only place on the planet where animals are on the move in numbers. Yes, they have the corner on the Great Migration as David Attenborough tells us. But, I like to think we have a small scale version without the glamour of zebras and wildebeests. And, if you are feeling left out with all this swarming and flocking and mobbing and migration talk, a trip across the bridge before Christmas for some last minute shopping will have you feeling a part of it all.