Little Minds

Today as I walked around my backyard looking for bugs, I wondered what it's like to be a bug in the winter, specifically one of those bugs that comes out on nice days, when it's not freezing out. I know they have tiny, little brains (do they even have brains?), and probably don't have a sense of self, but going in and out of whatever level of unconsciousness is brought on by the cold... do they know it? Or is it like being sedated for surgery, where you wake up hours later and it doesn't feel like any time has passed at all? Is there some level of decision-making, where the bug will think, "Yeah, this feels like a nice day, I'll crawl out of my hideaway and fly around a bit," or "Ugh, it's too cold, I'm staying in"? What makes a winter firefly decide to come out and sun itself, instead of staying tucked away under a bit of tree bark?

Whatever it is, it did not entice any winter fireflies out today. I was baffled; it was 50ºF, sunny, and I couldn't find any bugs. I saw one winter crane fly on the side of the house when I walked out with my camera (it flew away before I could get a picture) and one that flew past me as I was walking back to the house (I didn't get a picture of that, either), and those were the only two bugs I saw today. No springtails of any species, no winter fireflies, no birch catkin bugs, no beetles, no candy striped leaf hoppers basking on quivering leaves.

So why am I writing a blog right now, you ask, if there was nothing to see? Well, I didn't see any insects, but I that doesn't mean I didn't see any arthropods.

Arachnid Appreciation:
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It's a two-fer–a spider with a mite attached to it. I didn't notice the mite until I looked at it on the computer. First time I've seen that in the winter.