Late Wednesday afternoon, I noticed a dark smudge in the lower right corner on the outside of one of the kitchen windows. “Those painters were careless,” was my first thought: several years ago, the house had been painted with dark brown trim, and smudges had been left at the edges of some of the windows. Then by the next morning, I realized that if I hadn’t noticed a smudge for several years in that exact spot, it must be something new, and besides, it was clearly a solid object: through the glass, it looked rather like a rolled-up brown leaf — it had been windy lately — maybe a leaf had blown up to the window, and got caught in an old cobweb.
But then, I began to worry: maybe it was something else, like a bat. A strange place for a bat to sleep — they usually seek out more secluded places, not a relatively out in the open windowsill. If it was a bat, it might be a sick one. I was determined to get a look at whatever-it-was from outdoors, since I couldn’t tell exactly what it might be from indoors: but I had errands to run, and appointments to keep, so by the time I got a chance to look at the mysterious leaflike object, it was late Thursday afternoon. I stepped around to the back of the house to look.
And that was when I had a Homer Simpson-like slap-the-forehead moment: for it was, of course, a moth. A large silk moth, with closed wings, was clinging to the window frame — looking closer, I saw that it was a male Polyphemus ( the males have large feathery golden antennae). The weather has been so cold lately: really too cold for moths, at least too cold for them to fly. The moth must have emerged from its oakleaf-covered cocoon too early, at least for this unusually chilly spring; then it had to find a place to rest, and wait for warmer weather.
It was not the first time I had seen a Polyphemus on that kitchen window. Years ago, late one summer evening, my mother and I had been washing dishes (the sink is below the window, looking out on the backyard). It was a warm night, and the windows were wide open. Suddenly a large brown moth swooped in, flattening itself against the inside of the open window, wings splayed partly across the glass, partly across the wood frame along its lower edge. (We could tell it was a Polyphemus by the large blue eye spots on each hind wing.) “Why would it do that?” Mother wondered. In a moment, her question was answered: a screech owl whooshed past, the arc of its flight carrying it very close to the house. Clearly the moth had hidden from the owl. The moth stayed there, not moving, for quite some time: Mother complained that she hoped the moth would leave soon, since she wanted to close the windows before everyone went to bed. After about an hour, the moth left, and we were able to close the windows.
I had not seen a moth this large near the house for many years. Large silk moths are sadly becoming rare, for many reasons. This moth, clinging to the outside of the kitchen window in the cold, seemed content to keep still, waiting: though I could tell it had moved slightly when I looked at it again later, it stayed in much the same place for several days. Yesterday, at last, the weather grew warmer: early this morning, Sunday, I looked out, and was not surprised to find that the moth was gone. I wish him good luck in encountering others of his species.
