I counted an even dozen of these handsome beetles clustered on the west end of the pool house screen. Buck and I swam lazy backstrokes, watching as a mockingbird treated the screen like a fast food drive-through.
And then there were eleven. The bird returned twice for refills.
And then there were nine.
It was macabrely fascinating to note that the bugs never flinched or changed their positions, even when it was clear to onlookers that the mocker would return.
Buck told me years ago that fear is paralysis at the brainstem level.
Today I more fully understand his words.
This diminutive creature looks like a mystical hybrid: wings, soft fur, hairy legs, protuberances that look like a second set of gossamer wings.
Otherworldly incarnations of life hide in plain view, fantastical life forms with much to teach us, to delight us.
From inside the pool house, this Imperial moth looked muddy brown, but interesting enough for me to go back in the house for my camera. When I slipped around the outside of the building and got a good look at the moth, my mouth went dry and my hand developed a fine tremor. A breeze ruffled the moth's wing's. I feared he was about to fly.
I hope that mockingbird filled up on crunchy beetles.