Plolyphemus Moth

I found one of these little guys stumbling around on the pavement of our parking lot Friday, staggering as if he were drunk. He couldn't seem to fly very far, so I took him in my office in a basket. He had a capful of water, an apple, a dead cricket and some grass. He was quiet for hours, clinging to the wicker side. I covered the basket with a half sheet of paper, and he started to stir, and flew out at one point. I took him outside, and clung to the skirt of my organdy dress part of the way. He still couldn't fly well, so I put him on the seat of a picnic table, in the shade secluded and surrounded by three walls. No one knew I had him. Had he died, I would have mounted him, I admit, but I wanted him to live. After about an hour or so, I checked on him; he was still liting on the bench. So, I put him a a shoe box with holes, and he was trying to fly out. After I looked him up and discovered he was nocturnal, liked pins, black elder, black willow, and Virignia pine, a friend and I took him to the trees at the edge of our lot, part of an apartment complex. We opened the box lid and he flew out, lighting on a bush we directed him to. He was fine; we watched him a while then left.

I felt a little sad, and I miss him, but he is happy. When I was little, I loved keeping temporary pets of grasshoppers and caterpillars, but they always left their glass jar hotels with holes in the lid at the end of the day. A friend and I also watched a magnificent spider, black with bright yellow markings, build a web on our school fence. We called her Charlotte.

The groundhog continues to do well; he has learned to crawl through the drainpipe under the highway to cross the street. Very smart little guy. Enjoy the dog days of summer; till later.