Tales from the Microbial Laboratory

Front Door Light Moth Series, Part XIV

I'm sure that you've been on the edge of your seats, wondering...what's the next front door light moth gonna look like?

Well, now you know.  It was discovered this morning, clinging to the edge of the storm door. 

We're all clinging to something, I suppose. 

~~~~~

I don't know the name of this little fuzzy thing, but I can say that it has a very dainty little black front...paw?  (I know, I've got a computer, I could look this sort of thing up, but I've got a list of things to-do so long that I just can't imagine adding another thing to it.)

But...tonight I did come across this South Carolina Moths Searchable Checklist.  Perfect!  Well, sort of.  And maybe one day, one of my Front Door Light moths will make their list of South Carolina moths.  Now how cool would that be?  That could be a new life goal.  Heck, it could become my ONE and ONLY life goal - now, there's a thought.  (And there is also the possibility that it is my only thought - which is scary indeed).

 

Front Door Light Moth Series, Part IIIX

Boy, this little guy is pretty intriguing, isn't he?

He's either had a tough night, or he's really good at making himself unnoticeable.  He's definitely not a glamour moth like this one.

(or she).

I just realized that I am numbering these wrong.  Dammit.

~~~~~

Al Gore.  The WE Campaign.  You can read the text of Gore's speech from last Thursday here - or listen to it in the video below.   And take a look at No Impact Man - for some additional thoughts (and an interesting, fun blog).  And then - Al Gore's surprise visit to the Networks Nation conference.

You know, I've been reading alot of negative responses and thoughts about the whole going 'green' thing - either folks want all or nothing - or they want it at a lower cost than current energy costs - or, they're just uncomfortable about what 'change' will mean to their comfortable lives.  Frankly, I want to see if T. Boone Pickens can make some headway - hell, I don't mind if a Texas oil guy makes money in the wind business instead.  I think it's alot of baby steps - little changes that globally result in big changes - and old technologies coming back (rain barrels!) and new technologies coming forward.

I love this stuff because it makes sense.  We need to get the price of icynene down to where we all can afford it.  We need to quit taking our leaves to the landfill - and leaving them on our land.  Grow your own lettuce in the winter.  I'm tring to build a LEED certified home, and I'm saying 'no' to a paved driveway because...is it really necessary?  I could go on, but I need to go back out into my garden and weed before it gets crazy-hot.  But I guess how I feel is that we can all do something here - and the things we need to do aren't necessarily big or expensive.  Just do something.  It becomes contagious.

We need to begin to live a little differently - and the change could be good.

(And yeah, I like Al Gore.)

Front Door Light Moth Series, Part IIX

This morning, as I turned to close the front door behind me - It was impossible not to notice this distinctive pink and yellow moth, clinging to the front of my home just under the front door light.

I haven't been paying attention to the moths in quite awhile, in fact - it has been almost a year since I've mentioned a Front Door Light Moth - the last one was mentioned on 30 September 2007 to be precise.

Honestly, I don't remember what my habits were before the past year erupted into a race with my Mother's lung cancer.  Everything routine in my life became somewhat scrambled - and now here I find myself, two months after her death, standing at my front door, staring at a moth I've only seen pictures of before, and wondering when looking at the moths before I left each morning stopped being routine.  When did I stop swimming?  And reading each evening?  And wandering in the garden in the early morning (when the light was best) with my camera?  My life now is a bit chaotic, unscheduled - definitely not routine.  I haven't settled back into my life after last year - and I am unsure of what I will settle into in the future.  Perhaps that is the joy of this life, yes?

But this moth stopped me cold.  Instead of going to my car, I put my briefcase down and went back inside and got my camera.  I snapped several images of this creature, and then I went inside to find out what it was - it's colors were so unique, it should be easy to identify.

It's a rosy maple moth - Dryocampa rubicunda.  They like maples - but I also read somewhere that they like oak trees as well.  They're considered common (you can see here where they've been recorded), although it was the first one that I've seen in my little one acre of land.  In looking up some information on it, I came across two interesting sites: 'butterflies, moths and caterpillars' and 'Moths in a Connecticut Yard'.  As an admirer of biological diversity for the simple sake of the diversity itself - I loved going through these sites and seeing what these people had observed and captured images of.

I need to get back to the observations I can make at my own front door light.  I need to get back into the routine of paying attention, the routine of observing...thanks to the presence of a rather garish little moth creature that surprised me this morning.

Actias luna (still hanging out on the banana leaf)

Actias luna

What a treat this morning - to spot a luna moth (Actias luna, Linnaeus, 1758) casting it's shadow on the back of a banana leaf (most likely laying eggs). 

These moths are members of the family Saturniidae - the saturniids - those large members of the Lepidoptera that usually stop you in your tracks when you spot one.

What a fleeting, spectacular - mysterious life.

~~~~~

Luna Moth by Cecily Parks (found here:  Blackbird:  an online journal of literature and the arts, Spring 2005, Vol. 4. No. 1)

Pale green and pressed against the window screen,
shot through with field, you watch nighttime's corners
curl with four white eyes, your under-self unfurled
to my one room of word—kettle, counter,

knife block. Having lived one of your life's
six nights, you leave a limp silhouette where you
left off—let me be the creature circling
your sleep. I am the most benign unknown;

I do not touch. With what nights are left, plant
your wing beat in my sleep, be the only
hovering thing. If only you could teach me
survival without sustenance, unworried
love, how to find oneself at a window
one morning and think nothing of what happens next.

~motion (or a blurry live oak canopy)~

I took this photo this evening - it was an accidental shot - while I held the camera and the Wild Dog on her leash.

But I kinda like it.

And it made me play with Photoshop CS2 for a bit, something I don't dig into often and know little about (and still don't).  But it is kinda fun.

~~~~~

 

Camellias (for a grey January day)

Front Door Light Moth Series, Part IX

So tonight, somewhat serendipitiously, I came across an image of a moth that I had forgotten to include in these pages - a nice one I think - and then even more serendipitiously, I came across a site (as one often does on the www), The Wondering Minstrels (which doesn't seem to be maintained any longer), and a poem...about a moth.  An appropriate poem - for a moth and such a night.  Thinking, while sitting out in the much cooler air, thinking about lives (of any kind) well-lived - short ones, long ones - pondering the last remaining hours of a (yes, still breathing) sweet beagle and a brief visit to an 87 year old friend who has the petals of camellias and sails of old boats rushing even still through his veins.  Yes, tonight it's not surprising to think of a moth, and to come across a poem (one that I'm guessing is not new to many but is to me) which came with the following preamble:

The narrator is a poet [archy] reincarnated in a cockroach's body.
He types by jumping on the keys of a typewriter, hence the lack of caps.
Knowing that helps :)

the lesson of the moth by Don Marquis

i was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense

plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself
on a patent cigar lighter
i do not agree with him
myself i would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity

but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself

archy

Front Door Light Moth Series, Part XIII

I saw this moth about a week ago, the only moth left around the front door light in early morning.  It was impressive I thought - it looked like a small twig plastered on the vinyl (etched to look like real wood) - so oddly a moth and a synthetic material, both doing the same thing but with different motivations.  This time of year, the number of moths start to dwindle a little - especially as cooler evenings move in.

~~~~~

Today (if I remember correctly) is the anniversary of Hurricane Hugo (back in 1989).  This is always a day that we like to get past in the whole tropical season thing - we breathe a little lighter when this day is behind us. 

~~~~~

Beneath my house are flagged stakes that outline the shape of my new home.  It felt like a big step:  I can now go out the door and down the steps and stand in my future home office space and imagine what it will be like.  Windows are my task for this weekend - windows, and I need to start thinking about tile.  Soon, with the minor revisions made to the current plan, I'll get quotes from both the solar water and geothermal guys - and I'll have my first meeting between the the local liason between Southface/LEED, my architect, and myself.  The LEED certification process requires involvement from the beginning - they will review the plans first, as well as site factors - and have to sign off on this stage before we can move onto the next one.

But I have a feeling that during the next month, alot will be happening.

~~~~~

Ah!  A Moths Word Finder over at William Watkin's blog...where, in general, moths seem to be fluttering about.

~~~~~

It's a beautiful day here, along the South Carolina coast.

Front Door Light Moth Series, Part XII

I noticed this moth earlier this week - a fairly large one, compared to the others that I had seen of late, and one that I had not noticed before.  I especially liked the hint of olive green in the wing tips of this one - it's really a beautiful shade of green.

I think it's important to notice things.  But perhaps sometimes you try to notice too much.

~~~~~ 

I don't do well with my mom's oncologist.  My brother and I have found that it is better if I give him questions, and let him do the calling and talking - which doesn't mean that it is easier for him, it's not, it's just that he's probably a little (alot) more effective than I would be.

I just get frustrated.

Monday is my mom's last round - the last of 8 three-week treatments - of her chemotherapy 'cocktail'.  So far she has responded well - amazingly so - both of her CT scans since diagnosis have shown shrinking of all of the areas of her lung affected by the cancer.  Only 40% of individuals respond favorable at all to this treatment, and mom is in the upper percentile in terms of her favorable response.

We should feel grateful, and deep down - we do.

She still has cancer.  That's just the reality - but after these eight treatments, it has been pushed back quite substantially, and also - as importantly - her symptoms have been virtually eliminated and her quality of life has been good.

But this is where I struggle:  after Monday's treatment, she is going off the chemotherapy.  I had my brother ask 'Why?' (the obvious question) and the response was 'That's the protocol'.  After Monday, she'll just receive Avastin every three weeks.  Most cancer treatments are based on statistics - chemotherapy protocols are developed based on the average responses - and aren't really designed for those that lie on either end of the bell curve.  This is always where my conversations with the oncologist break down.

I want to scream to the oncologist that 'my Mom is an exception!' when of course I realize that everyone's Mom is an exception.

Human beings aren't statistics.

I hate protocols.  Protocols need constant updating and revision, constant experimentation to see where and how they can be improved.  I feel like I should be able to do this - that if I read enough, if I read just one more article on non-small cell lung cancer that I'll be able to figure it out (which is stupid, because there are thousands of people out there, so much more qualified than I, trying to figure it out - I tell myself that it is both arrogant and silly for me to think this, but it's a thought that is persistently roaming around in my head, pillaging perfectly reasonable thoughts).

~~~~~

This would now be a footnote:  Last summer, a woman came to visit our program - to meet with our students, faculty, and graduate students - and to present a seminar on her research.  I had been in contact with her to coordinate her trip, and she had been a pretty rotten communicator throughout our correspondence - and when she arrived and we went out to dinner, she apologized for her sporadic communication and said that her mother had been diagnosed with a prion disease (an unknown prion disease) six months earlier and had just died.  We talked that evening about how strange and odd prions are - and she said that they were a 'hidden' disease, that they were more frequently diagnosed (by elimination of other diseases or a brain biopsy) than people realized, and yet next-to-nothing was known about them.  She struggled, throughout her mother's illness, because she couldn't - through her research in genomics - learn enough to save her mother.  This woman has now begun a project in her laboratory that focuses on the prion proteins.

There are alot of cancer researchers out there in the world already (I tell myself each day).

~~~~

But decisions have to be made.  I sense that she is struggling with going 'off' chemotherapy - part of her is thinking 'this is good!' but I can tell that she knows that it is not.  My brother and I need to help her find out what other options are available to her - because she is truly the exception to our family.

~~~~~

The Moths by Mary Oliver

There’s a kind of white moth, I don’t know what kind, that glimmers by mid-May in the forest, just as the pink mocassin flowers are rising. If you notice anything, it leads you to notice more and more. And anyway I was so full of energy. I was always running around, looking at this and that. If I stopped the pain was unbearable. If I stopped and thought, maybe the world can’t be saved, the pain was unbearable. Finally, I noticed enough. All around me in the forest the white moths floated. How long do they live, fluttering in and out of the shadows? You aren’t much, I said one day to my reflection in a green pond, and grinned. The wings of the moths catch the sunlight and burn so brightly. At night, sometimes, they slip between the pink lobes of the moccasin flowers and lie there until dawn, motionless in those dark halls of honey.