Meet the 5 Fascinating Insects Crawling Through My Garden
A Week of Tiny Surprises in My Garden
This week was never meant to turn into a little nature film, honestly, I was just thinking about my spinach, the hot weather of early summer, and repairing the irrigation that I had messed up the weekend before. But there was something about the soil after I watered it on Monday morning that made me change my mind. It was darker, softer, more alive and I found myself engaging with it in a way I hadn't for quite some time.
Maybe that's the reason why I caught every movement. Every rustle. Every shadow. It was as if my garden was talking to me, letting me meet the neighbors that I had been turning a blind eye to for years.
Thus, the accidental discovery of the secret, hidden world of the garden that lies under my mulch was my first step.
1. The Cape Mountain Rifle Beetle - The Tiny Drummer in My Soil
It was a splendid hour of intervention, exactly when my brain was a whirlwind of thoughts. I was overwhelmed by my thoughts that morning, the kind of thinking which leads nowhere. Suddenly, however, a very delicate tapping was heard from the earth, almost as if it was quietly knocking at my thoughts.
On looking at the ground closely, the little fellow was beetle with one of its legs, it seemed, but very lega and determined. What really captured my attention this time was not the tapping but more the silence of the intervals between the taps. It seemed as though the beetle was waiting for me to see it. And the hilarious thing? I actually did. I really took such a short pause that I was able to be calmed by the sound.
This little drumming beast did not come back, the little fellow went out of sight gradually, vanishing between pieces of bark as if going back to his own world. But for the whole day that tapping was with me a reminder that there are things in the garden that don't have to scream to get noticed.
🔗 Cape Mountain Rifle Beetle Full Post: [Read More]
2. The Pea Longhorn Beetle - The Long-Legged Wandering
The following day the Longhorn Beetle showed up, but it was not really the insect that mattered to me it was the way it went. I have a garden full of little paths made by my boots, the hose, and the water that flows naturally, but this beetle didn't follow any of them. It went along its own route, making a tiny trail that I had never seen.
Honestly, watching it made me think about how many invisible paths there are that are not made by me but by the animals that live in the soil and among the leaves. I was thinking of the tiny roads under my feet, the cross points, the places for food, the little areas of land they keep for themselves.
That beetle turned my garden into the first place I saw from the earth. So suddenly, every pebble, every dried leaf, was gigantic and of great value.
🔗 Complete Pea Longhorn Beetle Article: [Read More]
3. The Mini Toktokkie - Small Body, Loud Personality
The Mini Toktokkie was like a mischievous cousin who dropped in unexpectedly it totally made my week. I don't think it was the sound of the tapping or the way it ran that I remember the most, it was actually its confidence. That tiny little thing could have been the biggest boss in the world, it went throng my path as if it was already given the way and didn't fear my shadow at all.
While I was looking at it, I understood something about myself: I have been walking on tiptoes in my own garden recently. Overthinking. Keeping yourself in check. And yet, here is the smallest insect I haven't seen this entire week, and it is going about its business with absolute certainty, as if it was already familiar with this place.
I laughed at myself. And at it.
Sometimes smallest of things can be the biggest reminders of the place you have your own or at least they remind you that you shouldn't be doubting it.
🔗 Full Mini Toktokkie Post: [Read More]
4. The Lycidae Net-Winged Beetle - A Gentle Splash of Colour
The day I spotted the lycidae beetle, it was kind of a weird day the sky was partly cloudy with a few rays of the sun peeking through. My guava leaves still had the morning dew on them, and the whole scene looked like it had been bleached a bit. So that hot orange color on the leaf looked like the garden had done its own lighting work.
I was standing more time than I thought next to that orange insect.Not because the insect was in motion, it was not. But because its immobility made the moment kind of a meditative experience. I even saw the guava leaf bending beneath the beetle's weight, a water drop hanging from the very end, and the breeze which didn't touch that leaf at all. It seemed like the garden was shielding that little ray of light.
Amidst a week full of movement, this one to me was a stillness, and it is stillness which beauty can be.
🔗 Full Net-Winged Beetle Post: [Read More]
5. The Millipede - The Slow, Silent Cleaner of My Garden
The millipede showed up on a day when the garden seemed to be suffocating the heat was very intense, and even the leaves of my pumpkins looked like they were dying of heat. I had moved some mulch to get more air in, and that is where I found it curled up tightly like a comma waiting to finish a sentence I hadn't written yet.
When it opened, I saw the leg movement was very smooth and the legs were all in one line. But what really amazed me was the millipede's patience. It didn't hurry even though I had surprised its refuge. It didn't react very much or run away. It just kept on with its silent work.
So, at that point, I also decided to slow down.
I realized how my garden depends on such creatures the ones who don't ask for attention or praise, who don't make noise or ask for space. They are the ones who just keep the earth's cycle going.
I brought the mulch back as if I was tucking someone under a blanket.
🔗 Full Millipede Post: [Read More]
A Week I Didn't Anticipate, But Certainly Needed
When I only remember this week, I think none of these creepy crawlies were new to my backyard. I guess I have probably passed by all of them at least a hundred times. However, this week something changed inside me, I decelerated enough to really see them.
And the more I saw, the more the garden became alive to me in a whole new way that I had never recognized before. It is untamed, gentle, theatrical, silent, stubborn, and has a bunch of small characters that I didn't come across… but they still live here.
Maybe that is the true magic of gardening.
You believe that you are the one creating the place, but in the end, the place creates you as well.
