The lowly Boxelder Bug, aka Boisea trivittata, is despised by many a person for nothing more than the fact that it exists. These little black and reddish-orange bugs wander the vast landscape of the inside of my house each fall, beginning their migration to the interior about August. We humans provide a wonderful, warm home for them and they take full advantage of it.
Many of the bugs make their way beneath the siding on the exterior of the home, joining an army of Squash Bugs and Stink Bugs, spiders of every shape and size and the occasional caterpillar. The ones that make it to the interior flit and fly across the rooms of the house, finding a new patch of sunlight in which to warm up or a new piece of furniture to traverse. The intrepid explorers make a study of every nook and cranny. They are on the floor, the walls, the ceiling and my water glass. They crawl across my crochet pattern and trundle along on the laptops keyboard.
These little bugs do not bother me and I’m fascinated by their actions when I blow on them or place my finger in the path of an unsuspecting pioneer. They wave their antennae, checking out the small, pale, inter-digital hairs on my fingers and move with rapidity, wary that I my squish them. They step with alacrity across the carpet, pausing and raising a few legs up in fear as I pass over them, only to continue their journey in the direction they were headed.
I talk to these little bugs. They amuse me. They are steadfast in their determination to study every corner of the house. I leave them be on their pilgrimage of my home that takes them from fall to spring… and always, always check my water glass before drinking.
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