[Io moth]

Every night we have a horde of nocturnal visitors disoriented by our porch light. Yesterday morning one stayed behind. I opened the front door to find a beautiful orange moth huddled up against the edge (fortunately the door opens inward). I grabbed my camera and snapped a few shots, after which I would have left him alone except that I didn’t want to leave him where he could easily be stepped on. So I started gently prodding him.



Suddenly he popped his wings open to aim two false eyes at me. In his world, a big predator would only be interested in him as a tasty morsel. In reality, I was probably saving him from a careless dog paw, but I had no way to signal him my benign intentions. I couldn’t just pick him up because of his delicate, dusty wings, but eventually I was able to encourage him out of our footpath and under the porch.

My affection for the creatures of the forest is mostly unreciprocated. For the majority I am a neutral or even threatening presence. I construct walls between human and nature in my mind and cast myself as a benefactor instead of a predator, but moths are working with a different world view.

Of course I am a benefactor to a few, select species. Mosquitoes rush to greet me. Burdocks and bitter docks flourish in the edges of our erratically maintained lawn. Then there’s my garden.

Later that day, thinking about these relationships, I entered the garden to find an interloper. An adult rabbit who had come to sample some of my plantings was frantically looking for an exit. Bemused, I slowly herded the sleek herbivore toward the gate while he flung himself repeatedly against the mesh. Finally he found a hole and burst free. Ivy, always ready for a rabbit chase, ran up and, as I turned back to survey the damage, I joked, “Get ‘im!”

Unfortunately she did. I yelled when I heard the squealing and Ivy came with the rabbit stretched out in her mouth. I think she was as surprised as I because she dropped her prize and let me pull her into the house. The rabbit was still breathing, but I left him alone. I couldn’t heal him, and the presence of another predator would only cause more distress. A little while later the rabbit’s distress was permanently gone.

I took him out in the woods, beyond where Ivy would venture by herself. I figured some scavenger will have a nice surprise, or more likely a horde of scavengers. In the forest, there’s always someone looking to benefit from another’s misfortune.