Stowaway

I picked up a stowaway on my way to work this morning. (Oddly, the word “stowaway” would not come to mind for the longest time. I thought of “hitchhiker,” but that didn’t fit the situation. Next I thought of “smuggler,” but that wasn’t right either. What is it called when one smuggles oneself? The word, I finally remembered, is “stowaway.”)

Last night and this morning conditions were cool enough for dew to develop. Therefore, before I could drive to work, I had to clean the windows of my car. I opened the door, set my lunch and phone and badge and mask on the seat, grabbed my squeegee, and went to work. I bought this squeegee at Walmart for two and a half dollars. It’s just like the ones they supply at gas stations for washing windows, and it is very handy for clearing the windows on a day like today.

I had driven more than a mile before the moth appeared. He was not a large insect, less than an inch long, and as soon as I made sure he was not a wasp, I relaxed. Clearly this month did not understand glass and windows, as he persistently tried to exit the car through the windshield. I perceived immediately that this could be a traffic hazard—being distracted by the motion of a moth, I might easily miss seeing something in the road or approaching the road while the car was moving. But I did not want to kill the moth. As he crawled on the windshield, I could see the details of his head and legs and wings. Had he been a mosquito, I might not have been so kind, but I preferred to let the moth escape alive. I knew that even if I tried to snatch him with my hands to toss him out a side window, I was likely to wound him—probably fatally. But I could not do much to help him out of the car while he explored the windshield in front of me.

We spent a minute stopped at a red light, as the moth continued exploring and I continued observing him. Then the light changed and I started forward. The motion of the car startled him off the windshield to my left. Quickly, I pressed the button to open the side window. The moth flew out, and in the next instant I had closed the window again.

In all, this stowaway probably traveled three or four miles by car—probably farther than it ever would travel in a normal lifetime. Its sudden appearance in a new neighborhood could conceivably lead to biological changes in the population that might have results as soon as next summer. Little creatures travel great distances all the time, thanks to human transportation. Sometimes the results can be earthshattering. In this case, though, I think my friendly little moth stowaway will be relatively harmless. J.

5 thoughts on “Stowaway

  1. I hate killing critters, too. It even hurts my heart to pull weeds. But I do it anyway, to keep from being fined by the city for having an unkempt yard.

    Did you know that moths are pollinators? It’s true. So your kindness to your stowaway was good for the environment. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

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