Invasion of Montana Moths

In Montana, we don’t have year-round flying insects. We have two seasons, Winter and July.

Sunburns, forest fires, mosquito bites, grasshoppers and Moths, mark the month of July. Yes, some of these things happen in June, after the last snowfall. The next cold snap and snow will come in August, just to see if I’ve kept track of my coat. Back to the Moths.

I read in bed at night, fiction, non-fiction, sometimes using my cell phone as a budget electronic reader and sometimes wielding a heavy hard cover with a McGyvered book-light attached.

There is a small window of reading opportunity that squeezes in between the time I take my sleep medication and the point where I begin making phone calls I won’t remember or fixing reading lights or retrieving index cards.

Several days ago, during this small window of sound mind, a moth peed on me. I shudder at the thought of anything peeing on me and I complained. During the next few nights, this invasion of moths began a full fledged attack on my reading time by clustering around my McGyvered Light. I began closing the book early and resenting the summertime creatures.

A few nights ago, I turned on the big light and found at least fifty of the winged pests in the midst of planning another attack.

I called for my son and my darling husband to witness the event.

“What are we going to do?” I asked. We can’t use the spray I bought, in fine print it warns about exposing the reading lady to toxic chemicals. We have a popcorn ceiling so smacking the conspiring beasts is not an option either.

What happened next, taught me that after nearly fifteen years of marriage there can still be surprises in the bedroom.

My darling husband reappeared in the bedroom with a glass of water. “Are you going to drink them to death?”

My son and I watched as he stepped up onto the bed and pressed the water glass gently to the ceiling. When he drew it away, there in the water was a busy moth.

“You see,” he explained, “they drop down and have to turn in mid fall in order to fly.”

During this small window of falling, the moth ends up in the glass, wet and unable to defend itself. The popcorn ceiling stays popped and no one has to worry about toxic sprays.

The moth monsters still invade my space about twenty minutes into my reading window leaving me with ten minutes of memory before my mind wonders off to sleep-med land, but the invasion has been quelled untill the first snowfall next month puts an end to the conspiring.

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