Equity
˚•̩̩͙❃•̩̩͙˚*·̩̩̥͙Squirtle Squad·̩̩̥͙*•̩̩͙❃•̩̩͙˚
The Winter Moth
On a mild winter night, dozens of adult winter moths hatched from their cocoons. Slowly tearing her way out of her protective capsule, one female winter moth also emerged alongside her comrades. Contrary to her wood brown male counterparts, she was wingless. Her small body wrapped around a thin layer of light grey fur was sprinkled with dim grey blemishes. She had been one of the few lucky survivors of her colony. Observing her surroundings, she witnessed how less than a third of her siblings emerged alongside her. This was nothing strange, as her remaining siblings had been infected by a parasitic fly – they had unknowingly ingested the parasites during their larval stage. Once it was time for the winter moth caterpillars to spin their cocoons, the opportunistic parasite began to grow inside their host, killing them in the process. But this would be another story for another time.
Alas, she had blossomed into a refined young adult and it was now her duty to bear children. As she hastily climbed her way up the young red oak tree alongside her female comrades, she emitted a sweet scent in hopes to attract her fated one. After several minutes, numerous males began to swarm around the group of females. Among the various males, she spotted one moth which stood out from the crowd. His coating was that a burnt umber shade, thus making him appear more reddish than his peers. Upon meeting his gaze, she noticed him swiftly heading towards her direction. One look was all it took for them to realize they were destined partners. And just like that, they began copulating. Once they had finished, the early hours had turned into dawn.
Suddenly, a little passerine bird swooped down on a lone female moth which was still looking for a mate. The small bird had a cobalt blue crown and a light grey forehead. Its entire breast region was painted in bright yellow and some white plumage could be seen on its lower abdomen area. A light moss green mantle with yellow and blue grey undertones gracefully covered its back, and its wings were coated with steel blue feathers. On its soft ivory face, a midnight blue line extended from its nape all the way to its jet black eyes until it met its beak. It was a blue ***. One blow from this avian predator would inflict a fatal wound from which she would never recover.
Although the blue *** was targeting her siblings, she knew she would soon be next. Her eyes darted around frantically as she searched for a refuge. Upon spotting a fissure in the tree trunk, she swiftly rushed towards it. In matters of seconds, she managed to sneak into the crack in time, but it was a narrow escape. Unable to reach into her shelter, the predator quickly gave up and moved onto easier preys. Just as she was finally able to take a breather, she felt a sharp pain stinging her lower body. She did not realize she had lost one of her back legs in the incident. However, her motherly instincts kept her from abandoning the journey.
Several hours had passed and sensing that the danger was no more, she painfully dragged her body out of her hiding place. Looking back and forth, she noticed that many of her peers remained nearby and had begun climbing further up the oak tree. She quickly followed along, but an incoming storm had now produced strong gusts that were sweeping across the area. If it were for her children, she would brave a storm for them. As the storm grew stronger, they regrouped to shield themselves from the winds and continued climbing up the tree together. She had managed to sneak in the center of the swarm. But a strong gust blew across the right side of their group and swept away half of the group.
The remaining ones proceeded with their journey. However, as they continued upward, the tree trunk abruptly changed colour to ivory white. They paid little attention to this change and continued forward. Once they stepped on this part of the trunk, something strange began to occur. Underneath their legs, the trunk felt sticky. No matter how hard they tried to free themselves from this gluey texture, they were unable to do so. They were stuck. And so they had no choice but to lay their eggs there.
Who would have thought that this white sticky part was actually a man-made band that had been purposefully wrapped around the trunk to trap them? The band would be disposed of once the mating season was over.
She was among the ones who got swept away. She twirled and twirled in various directions as the winds grew more powerful. Confused by this turn of event, she wriggled her legs back and forth trying to hold on to any solid object, but she was unable to do so. Just as she was about to resign to her fate, she landed on a bush: it was a wild lowbush blueberry shrub. Low on energy, she slowly inspected the blueberry plant. Although this plant differed from her usual diet, she decided to settle with this bush, as she had little time left. She laid her eggs one by one and after several hours, she was finished.
As she drew her last breath, she whispered to her dear ones, “Sleep well, my children.” Her eyelids grew heavier as she gradually closed her eyes, never to be awoken again. Drained from all energy and having performed her duty, her body plummeted down the bush and dropped onto the cold and compacted soil. Her lifeless body remained motionless as the storm grew stronger.
Such was the life of the winter moth.
On a mild winter night, dozens of adult winter moths hatched from their cocoons. Slowly tearing her way out of her protective capsule, one female winter moth also emerged alongside her comrades. Contrary to her wood brown male counterparts, she was wingless. Her small body wrapped around a thin layer of light grey fur was sprinkled with dim grey blemishes. She had been one of the few lucky survivors of her colony. Observing her surroundings, she witnessed how less than a third of her siblings emerged alongside her. This was nothing strange, as her remaining siblings had been infected by a parasitic fly – they had unknowingly ingested the parasites during their larval stage. Once it was time for the winter moth caterpillars to spin their cocoons, the opportunistic parasite began to grow inside their host, killing them in the process. But this would be another story for another time.
Alas, she had blossomed into a refined young adult and it was now her duty to bear children. As she hastily climbed her way up the young red oak tree alongside her female comrades, she emitted a sweet scent in hopes to attract her fated one. After several minutes, numerous males began to swarm around the group of females. Among the various males, she spotted one moth which stood out from the crowd. His coating was that a burnt umber shade, thus making him appear more reddish than his peers. Upon meeting his gaze, she noticed him swiftly heading towards her direction. One look was all it took for them to realize they were destined partners. And just like that, they began copulating. Once they had finished, the early hours had turned into dawn.
Suddenly, a little passerine bird swooped down on a lone female moth which was still looking for a mate. The small bird had a cobalt blue crown and a light grey forehead. Its entire breast region was painted in bright yellow and some white plumage could be seen on its lower abdomen area. A light moss green mantle with yellow and blue grey undertones gracefully covered its back, and its wings were coated with steel blue feathers. On its soft ivory face, a midnight blue line extended from its nape all the way to its jet black eyes until it met its beak. It was a blue ***. One blow from this avian predator would inflict a fatal wound from which she would never recover.
Although the blue *** was targeting her siblings, she knew she would soon be next. Her eyes darted around frantically as she searched for a refuge. Upon spotting a fissure in the tree trunk, she swiftly rushed towards it. In matters of seconds, she managed to sneak into the crack in time, but it was a narrow escape. Unable to reach into her shelter, the predator quickly gave up and moved onto easier preys. Just as she was finally able to take a breather, she felt a sharp pain stinging her lower body. She did not realize she had lost one of her back legs in the incident. However, her motherly instincts kept her from abandoning the journey.
* * *
Several hours had passed and sensing that the danger was no more, she painfully dragged her body out of her hiding place. Looking back and forth, she noticed that many of her peers remained nearby and had begun climbing further up the oak tree. She quickly followed along, but an incoming storm had now produced strong gusts that were sweeping across the area. If it were for her children, she would brave a storm for them. As the storm grew stronger, they regrouped to shield themselves from the winds and continued climbing up the tree together. She had managed to sneak in the center of the swarm. But a strong gust blew across the right side of their group and swept away half of the group.
The remaining ones proceeded with their journey. However, as they continued upward, the tree trunk abruptly changed colour to ivory white. They paid little attention to this change and continued forward. Once they stepped on this part of the trunk, something strange began to occur. Underneath their legs, the trunk felt sticky. No matter how hard they tried to free themselves from this gluey texture, they were unable to do so. They were stuck. And so they had no choice but to lay their eggs there.
Who would have thought that this white sticky part was actually a man-made band that had been purposefully wrapped around the trunk to trap them? The band would be disposed of once the mating season was over.
* * *
She was among the ones who got swept away. She twirled and twirled in various directions as the winds grew more powerful. Confused by this turn of event, she wriggled her legs back and forth trying to hold on to any solid object, but she was unable to do so. Just as she was about to resign to her fate, she landed on a bush: it was a wild lowbush blueberry shrub. Low on energy, she slowly inspected the blueberry plant. Although this plant differed from her usual diet, she decided to settle with this bush, as she had little time left. She laid her eggs one by one and after several hours, she was finished.
As she drew her last breath, she whispered to her dear ones, “Sleep well, my children.” Her eyelids grew heavier as she gradually closed her eyes, never to be awoken again. Drained from all energy and having performed her duty, her body plummeted down the bush and dropped onto the cold and compacted soil. Her lifeless body remained motionless as the storm grew stronger.
Such was the life of the winter moth.
It took inspiration from a moth active during wintertime (November to January): the winter moth (Operophtera brumata). It's considered an invasive species (a pest) in North America, and I wanted to write a story from the perspective of the moth (a tale of survival).