Here is another new-to-me critter, a Melonworm moth. I saw him (most definitely a male) when I stepped outside in the early morning. What I thought was a spider hanging off his abdomen are hair-pencils, and are used in the moth’s courtship rituals. Here is a video of him shaking his pompom. (OK, shaking is the wrong word, wafting it through the air is a better description for the very slow movements.) Their favorite host plants are squash and melons. I just planted winter squash. Go away little moth and leave my cucurbits alone!

Remember when I mentioned ebbs and flows? Well this morning had a surge of geckos. It started with Izzy the cat pointing out the large house gecko on the wall in the house.

Izzy (cat), Missy (dog), and I (human) chased the gecko all over the wall, behind a coat rack, which chose that moment to come loose from the wall (I’ll address the fixing of that tomorrow), then down on the floor. Izzy would trap it, then I would push her back and try and scoop up the poor gecko, the gecko would leap from my hand and we would repeat the actions. Missy just wanted in on the action. After the poor gecko was tired out, I was finally able to get him in my hand and take him outside. Good news, his tail was still intact!

The next gecko, a tiny little thing on the window going to the catio was not so lucky. Izzy caught and ate him. The third gecko my eldest found at the front door was able to escape cat and human clutches and remain free in the outdoors. The previous week held no gecko chasing frenzies. Ebbs and flows.

So. Many. Cicadas.

I have found cicada shells before, and seen adult cicadas, both living and dead, but haven’t witnessed a cicada emerging from their final molt. I have now, in spades. Every evening when I go to close the people doors on the coop, there is at least one cicada crawling out of its nymph form. I have to be careful not to crunch one in the door, and have had to relocate a couple so I could safely batten the hatches. Here are some of the pictures (not of the same individual).

When the summer heat starts to dissipate somewhat in the early evening, I open all the people doors in our coop to let the breeze through and bring the temperature down. Then before I head to bed I close the doors up again to protect the hens from late night predators. The worst part of walking around the outside of the coop at night is running into a face full of spider web. To say I make strange noises when suddenly draped with sticky gossamer threads is putting it mildly. So I have learned, finally, to use a flashlight to see the webs before I envelope myself, and how to disarm the trap so I can pass by.

The webs spread across paths usually have three or four anchor points. It is amazing how these eight-legged critters establish the anchor lines as they drift around on the breeze, and equally wonderful that if you break one of the lines, the web collapses and the spider moves in the opposite direction. Away from the break and that which broke it! No spiders in my hair or crawling up my arm, no web across the path or on my skin, and eventually they stop setting up shop in that spot. This method of disarming also looks much more dignified than waving a stick in front of you as you walk, like a deranged wizard.