By KAREN MADORIN
My hubs and I follow the build a life you don’t need a vacation from philosophy. Our interests relate to the outdoors so we plant gardens and set out water to attract birds and insects we enjoy watching. To triple our fun, we feed squirrels and bunnies and search for yard art that tickles our funny bone. With so much happening outside, we spend hours enjoying nature’s miracles and murders. Depending on evidence left behind, I borrow techniques from Columbo, a favorite TV character, to solve those crimes.
You read MURDER right. We plan our garden so it has plenty of plants to hide birds when the neighborhood cooper’s hawk dashes in to dine. Quick access to get-away-tunnels usually protects our yard birds so she (yes, she--based on size) rarely snags a meal. Sadly, occasional feather piles tell us she periodically fills her belly.
She’s not the only killer in our Hood. We have spiders that weave traps designed to capture crawling and flying insects we then spy struggling in silken snares. Every now and then, we do our own frantic web-wiping dance trying to escape one we walked into while paying attention to something else.
This summer, we’ve watched cicada killers, which look like huge wasps, hovering near the ash tree while awaiting inattentive targets. We once spied one snag a cicada and wrestle it to the ground. Once down, these killers carry their catch to a den in the lawn. I researched what happens after that, which resulted in new nightmares. After the lumbering wasp transfers her tranquilized victim underground, it deposits eggs on the still-living cicada to feed larvae maturing into future cicada killers.
My current challenge involves explaining three cicada carcasses recently deposited on my deck. Each one had its head ripped off and placed adjacent to a hollowed-out body with wings and legs left intact. My hero Columbo would have sought a killer that consumed victims’ innards. As I followed his procedural, I eliminated cicada killers since they require a living food source to nurture larvae. What other vicious monster resides near us and our cicada chorus?
Following additional research, I hollered Eureka! Multiple praying mantises occupy our flower pots and gardens. They have both jaws and strength to wreak the havoc observed outside our back door. Sure enough, sources document that mantises devour cicadas. Mulling this circumstantial evidence, I then witnessed a mantis murder in progress.
While removing dried lily stems, what did I spy? A mantis gnawing a hummingbird moth beside my hand. Those powerful jaws don’t go for hors d’ oeuvres; they desire a Thanksgiving feast. Because the moth had expired, I didn’t interrupt the predator’s meal. Besides, one less moth means I’ll find fewer tomato worms in my vegetable garden. Witnessing this event upped the odds that a mantis left those headless carcasses behind.
Like Columbo, I’m muddling through clues. However, after watching that mantis consume a huge moth, I’d put a dollar on my suspicions. Who’da thunk in our life that doesn’t require vacations, we’d play detective every now and then.