10 Reasons not to Complain about Caterpillars

 

It is caterpillar season in the Peace again. Not only are these little pests swarming our trees, roads and houses, they have invaded our thoughts and conversations, and probably nightmares! The sheer number of them is staggering – billions of them munching away at leaves and stripping trees bare. I’m not sure how many legs Forest Tent Caterpillars have, but there are a lot of feet marching across our landscape. The swarm, they swing and they swim!! The forest is never silent, but now there is a continual soundtrack of chewing behind the bird chirping. In the hardest hit areas people are sweeping up dustpans full off their front steps a few times a day, blasting them off buildings with pressure washers or sucking them up in shop vacs. Bug-checks are performed before you enter a building – this is best done with a buddy so you can be sure there are none wriggling around on your back, catching a ride inside. Icky. Creepy. Gross. However, amid all the horror and complaining, I give you ten reasons why the caterpillars really ain’t so bad.

1. They don’t bite. Or sting. Or otherwise hurt us, or our animals. They are not killer bees. Do you know how many kids die every day because of malaria caused by mosquito bites? I don’t, but it is far more than the number of Westerners will die from every kind of insect bite combined. 





2. They are not poisonous. Even if one did mistake you for an aspen leaf you would not get sick or die. They are not poisoning our air or water sources.

3. They are not eating our food supply or cash crops we need to survive. Even if they ate all the plants in my garden I can go to my choice of grocery stores and buy food in and out of season from all over the world. This is not a plague that is threatening our livelihood, health or life. Get out a map of Africa, close your eyes, point your finger on a spot and I guarantee the people who live under your finger are dealing with something so much worse you don’t even really want to think about it.

4. The leaves will grow back on almost all the trees. Granted, there will be a few casualties – vulnerable young trees & plants may not survive, but otherwise the caterpillar-eaten leaves will grow back. Consider the mountain pine beetle epidemic that killed millions of pine trees in B.C. & Alberta – forests full of dead trees had to be cut down, and pine trees take a long time to mature. The effect here is much more a short-term aesthetic one – I am currently looking out at a barren brown landscape instead of a lush green one. Disappointing, but not devastating.

5. They will eventually move on. The caterpillar crunch is cyclical. We may have a few more years to endure, but they will move on or die at some point. This is short-term in the big picture of things.

6. They are not spiders. Enough said.

7. They are not threatening our homes. When your lawn becomes a carpet of caterpillars you have the option of going inside. To a cozy, fully-furnished house complete with a roof, windows and doors. (Not to mention t.v., computers, ipods, books, beds etc.) The caterpillars are not going to chew through our thatch roofs or cardboard walls.

8. They are getting us out of our comfort zone. That’s not such a bad thing, is it? It is good to be reminded not to take things for granted.

9. They are small. I must admit I would be quite frightened if I felt one could snatch up my youngest child or squash my car. Elephant-sized they are not.

10. They are God’s creatures. I have no idea why – I don’t know if there were tent caterpillars in the Garden or Eden or what, but that doesn’t really matter. I know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. (Romans 8.28)

So chew on, caterpillars. I will suck it up, shake’em off and get back outside.

Caterpillars

And so begins the first road trip of the season – this curious season of late spring/ almost summer in northern Alberta in which you can have a heat wave or a snowstorm depending on the day. Endless possibilities. This particular drive looks to be about 3200 kilometres return. Peace River, AB to Brandon MB and back again. I am glad to have Joanna along as co-pilot. I am of the belief that driving across the Prairies is best done with a lead-foot, and that is usually not a problem for me, but lately I am finding myself driving like a farmer... one-handed, head-out-window, tractor-speed on the highway. Alas, I have now lived in Alberta for 11 years, and on an acreage for 6 years, and I do fancy myself a dandelion farmer, but these are not the reasons for the peculiar driving. The culprit? Caterpillars.  

Malacosoma disstria. Forest tent caterpillars. These prolific little swarmers are quickly devouring most everything green in the Peace River region. We knew they were coming... the advance guard was doing reconnaissance in my raspberry patch last summer. And forest swaths south of here were under attack. I am morbidly fascinated by these rapacious eaters. As I drive into town, heading north into the Peace River valley, I slow down to gaze up at the naked stands of trees... trees that were fully decked out with green leaves only a few days earlier. Sometimes I slow down to stare at the blackish road covered in squished up, dried up carcasses. Thankfully they are dead... I have heard stories of road closures because of slippery critter conditions. My husband shudders at the memory of riding his bike as a kid over caterpillar-covered roads... the smell & sound still fresh in his mind thirty-ish years later.

In town the first place to be decimated was Misery Mountain Ski Hill. It was a double-whammy for that area – mountain pine beetles ravaged the area a few years ago. Hundreds of infected trees were cut down,  levelling the landscape.The local campground – The Pines – went from a forest oasis to a wide-open gravel pit.  Now the deciduous trees that are left are stripped bare of leaves. I keep thinking of Joel... “After the cutting locusts finished eating the crops, the swarming locusts took what was left! After them came the hopping locusts, and then the stripping locusts...” Joel 1:4 NLT

Plagues have been on my mind for a while. Many times last summer as I stood in the middle of my garden the phrase “of Biblical proportions” came to mind. At times the grasshoppers were so thick that with every step I took hundreds leaped to low flight and crashed into my legs and into each other. Sometimes I would run through the field just to see the parting of the insect-sea... They stripped the bean and potato leaves clean, but thankfully it was late in the season and most harvesting had been done. And if insects did eat up all the plants in my garden, I could still drive to the grocery store and buy a tomato. From Mexico. I try to imagine what it is would have been like a hundred years ago to experience a true plague. Or to live in a third world country today in a time of drought.  It is hard to conceive of the reality as I live in a land with plenty of food, clean water, government infrastructure. Water bombers. Insecticides. But in my mostly cozy little corner of God usually-green earth, I have a decided fascination for the oddities and extremes of creation.

The summer of 2011 was certainly one for the books in northern Alberta in terms of natural disasters (I prefer the term phenomenon – the events of nature are not in themselves disasters... but that is a discussion for another time.) As we tried to head southeast to my in-laws place on Baptiste Lake, we were alternately road-blocked by fire and flood. Our route takes us through Slave Lake – a town now infamous for losing a large portion of itself to a forest fire. One attributed to human cause, and spread by unusually high winds and dry conditions. Incredibly there was only one fatality related to the fire. After the clean-up was underway, and the media coverage of the relief effort and the subsequent visit of William & Kate died down, the much-needed rain came. And came. Lakes and rivers overflowed. The highway flooded. So did some of the gutted lots in town ready for construction. When it rains it pours...

And so I drive slowly... wondering if my forest will be entirely gone when I return in a week, watching the fireweed spring up below the stubble of charred spruce, looking for bird nests and caterpillar tents in the branches of the poplars, searching for the beetle-red needles of the pines, looking for dry creek beds and flooded farmers’ fields.
And I think of Joel. Begging his people to change. God will give you back what you lost! And so much more! And I pray. And I thank God for the wonder of His creation, and His mercy. And I smile. And I might just speed up.

 “That is why the LORD says, “Turn to me now, while there is time. Give me your hearts.
Come with fasting, weeping, and mourning. Don’t tear your clothing in your grief, but tear your hearts instead.” Return to the LORD your God, for he is merciful and compassionate,
slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.  He is eager to relent and not punish. Who knows? Perhaps he will give you a reprieve, sending you a blessing instead of this curse...Surely the LORD has done great things! Don’t be afraid, my people. Be glad now and rejoice, for the LORD has done great things. Don’t be afraid, you animals of the field, for the wilderness pastures will soon be green. The trees will again be filled with fruit; fig trees and grapevines will be loaded down once more. Rejoice, you people of Jerusalem! Rejoice in the LORD your God! For the rain he sends demonstrates his faithfulness. Once more the autumn rains will come, as well as the rains of spring. The threshing floors will again be piled high with grain, and the presses will overflow with new wine and olive oil. The LORD says, “I will give you back what you lost to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts, the stripping locusts, and the cutting locusts. Once again you will have all the food you want, and you will praise the LORD your God..” Joel 2: 12-14, 20-26 NLT