Since fall I have been living with two unintended guests. They are small, brown bugs, charming in their own buggy way, they trundle about as though on some deeply serious business
I couldn’t possibly understand. No doubt true. One stays in the dining room, the other in the kitchen. I don’t believe they’ve ever met.
I did meet many of their cousins - at the end of summer. All of whom I escorted outside. The current two didn’t introduce themselves until winter. I am not heartless. I couldn’t throw them out in the cold. Perhaps come spring . . .
I called them Brown Bugs because I didn’t know their proper name. Google tells me they are: Halyomorpha halys – a.k.a. - Brown Marmorated Stink Bugs. Apparently they can produce malodourous odors when provoked. These two don’t.
I don’t provoke them, and I have no intention of doing so.
I imagine that’s why they don’t stink.
Stink Bug sounds derisive. I prefer: Brown Bug.
I do worry about them. They’re barely a half inch long.
I could kill them accidentally.
I try to be careful, but I’m very big, and they’re very small. The kitchen sink is another problem. Several mornings now, I’ve carelessly turned on the faucet to get water for coffee, only to look down and discover Kitchen Bug nearly drowned.
I offer him a bit of paper towel, he climbs on, and I lift him out onto the windowsill. He remains motionless for more than an hour. Just when I’ve given him up for dead, he gets up, climbs up the windowpane - where he remains for the rest
of the day.
Brown Bugs can fly. Why didn’t he fly out of the sink? They have no trouble climbing up vertical glass. Why can’t they climb up the vertical aluminum of the sink? Maybe they can but choose not to. They are illegal immigrants from Asia. Another instance of Oriental inscrutability”?
Their flying skills don’t amount to much; a few feet, then it’s back to walking. They remind me of chickens. Chickens rarely fly any further than from ground to low tree branch. Still, they fly, I don’t. I suppose they have their reasons.
Dining Room Bug is rarely around, usually only in the evening, probably for the warmth of the dining room lamp.
Both bugs are oddly clumsy, yet nimble. They often fall off the wall onto their backs, then somehow leap up and over onto their legs. I can’t tell how they manage this. It’s very acrobatic.
Kitchen Bug was missing all morning. Around one-thirty he crawled across the front of the TV. over to a glass of water on the counter. There he stopped some three inches away from the glass. He reared a bit, not fully rampant, but with front legs lifted. He pushed his nose against the glass, wiggled antenna and gestured with his legs. Getting no response, he walked sideways around the glass, pausing now and then to press his nose against the glass and try another gesture. Getting none, he continued until half-way around.
Then he started to climb up. An inch from the top, he fell onto his back. I expected him to flip over, instead he somehow lifted himself to a heads-up vertical position, then pitched over onto his legs. Brown Bugs don’t seem able to get a good grip on very smooth surfaces. A little extra gravity and down they go. Undaunted, he made his way back to his original position to try one more time - still, no response.
Now he was daunted.
He walked over to the edge of the counter and looked me in the eye. This continued for about five minutes. Finally, I said, “Don’t ask me, I’m as confused as you are. Life’s a mystery. You just have to work around it”. He thought this over for another five minutes, abruptly turned and walked off to the wall, climbing until out of sight behind the top of the cupboard.
Oriental bugs! They’re inscrutable.
Kitchen bug occasionally walks over to about eight inches away from my whiskey glass, and stares at me. I wonder what he’s thinking. In their native Asia they dine on fruit, actually the skin of the fruit. They can’t get through to the fruit - or don’t want to? Another mystery. Does the scent of the whiskey remind him of the scent of fruit”? I enjoy that thought. Small connoisseurs of fine spirts. Yes, I imagine that’s it.
We will probably part company in the spring.
Goodbyes are never easy.
I will say, ”Farewell little friends, I wish you well”.
Halyomorpha halys – not mine, only a stock photo.