Massacre Among the Pines
Massacre Among the Pines
I never thought myself a rural sort of person, but I find myself in Minnesota's north woods actually, quite happy.
Come early October our house is bombarded with what I thought were little ladybugs. These folks attack by the thousands. Some days the southwest facing, front of the house, usually drenched in evening sun, is completely covered with these little orange beetles, which patiently slip through the cracks and crevices in the hand-built log house.
Apparently, these beetles, which happily chow down on aphids, are not the North American native Ladybugs we all know and doodle, but an invasive species taken from, stolen from?, hopefully purchased from? (can you purchase bugs?), their native Asia and introduced in the United States as early as 1916 to help control the aphids and other plant-damaging bugs that our native Ladybug species couldn’t quite keep up with.
They apparently were hardly seen for years but became very apparent in the 70s. Displaying a distinctly different dot pattern than the native ladybug, they’re easy to distinguish. And in the fall, after the harvest, these folks have little to eat, so start gathering in swarms looking for warmth and protection through the hard Minnesota winters.
Asian lady beetles have been useful for farmers and our food supply, and they do reduce the use of pesticides, however, outside of invading the house, they’re also a problem for the native ladybug. Because they’re “heartier” than native ladybugs, they’re winning all the food, making the ladybug an endangered species.
I do want to love all animals (and insects) because I know how important they are for our ecosystem, but when they’re coming in the house in droves, cute little ladybugs become not so cute (not that I accuse the Asian beetles, they didn’t ask to come here). The last time I lived up here I vacuumed piles of them daily from the front landing, crawling on windows and counters, hurdled in corners. There was not much else I could do to control the indoor population.
This year, for better or worse, Mom hired professional pest control. Not specifically to handle the Asian beetles, but generally speaking, living out here in the woods, in a somewhat drafty log home, bugs of all sorts do tend to find their way into the house. Dad is, apparently, inconsistent with his own spraying, but even so, his little hand-held sprayer doesn’t hold a candle to the pest control that showed up one afternoon setting the dogs off just by merely approaching the house.
He got to work completely drenching the bottom part of the house. The window in my downstairs bedroom looked as if it had been hit with a torrential downpour.
This doesn’t stop the Asian beetles from dive-bombing us outside on a hot, sunny autumn evening, nor does it prevent quite a few from coming in the house, however, it does seem to kill them off after a time. Now not only am I vacuuming up a mix of dead and live beetles from the landing and other nooks, but thousands die on the front deck after coming into contact with the house and carpet the deck all fall.
Quite late in the season (mid-Oct.) I finally decided to set up my hammock stand. I’d intended to spend the whole of September lounging in it after I got settled, but alas, it always takes me three times as long to do a thing than I expect even when I estimate longer than I expect in the first place, so I was still getting settled in September, and often wonder if I’ll ever actually feel settled.
But this particular day in mid-October, just weeks before winter set in, was absolutely lovely: the sun was shining, there was a light breeze, and most importantly, I’d been up all night worrying Copper was going to die in his sleep after he’d been vomiting the evening before, so I wasn’t up for much in the way of writing or unpacking.
After a much-needed nap, as I vowed to get not much done, I eventually poked my head outside and couldn’t stop myself setting up the hammock, which had been sitting in its bag on the deck since I’d moved back end of July.
But before I could enjoy being wrapped in blankets, a cool breeze washing over me while a hot water bottle warmed my toes, I had to sweep thousands of beetles off the deck, the bottoms of my bare feet stained with orange.