A while ago, I thought our little beetle friend in the terrarium, a beautiful Eleodes armata, must have died. I had watered the terrarium pretty thoroughly and this usually brought him out from his subterranean refuge. This time, however, he made no appearance. Inspecting the terrarium, I thought I saw a dark beetle carcase and assumed that was the end of the darkling beetle.
A couple weeks later, after not watering it at all or putting any food in it, I was checking out the terrarium again and decided I should give it some water for the sake of any springtails that still lived in the soil. Who should I see crawl out but our old pal the desert beetle! I was so excited to see that he was still alive and just fine. I saw him again recently, seemingly nibbling at some decaying vegetable matter.
I have loved beetles ever since I was a little kid. I would collect bugs and especially prized finding a certain beetle, the Blue-margined Ground Beetle or Pasimachus elongatus. This beetle’s pincher jaws were so cool to a little boy and they were probably my favorite insect to catch. Sometimes I dug mazes in the dirt of the tree-row behind our house and then covered these labyrinths with spilt firewood. I’d add dirt on top and leave an entrance and an exit, usually marked with some upright sticks. Then I’d release the beetle at the entrance and wait and see if it would emerge from the exit.
The tree row-was a wonderful place for a kid. I built a miniature earthlodge village among the young trees. Another time I tried (without a lot of success!) to build an Ewok battle-wagon like the one I had seen in a toy store. Once, as an experiment, I buried a raw egg in the soil and dug it up weeks later to see what had happened to it. Another time we had a big bonfire near the edge of the tree-row and I ended up setting my rubber boot on fire after using my toe to push the end of one too many sticks into the fire. One summer day, we found an injured sparrow in the tree-row, nursed it back to health, and named it Sparrow Hood. In the dirt between the rows, I dug a shallow cave, covered it with plywood and then soil and had a camouflaged hiding spot. I buried a small time capsule in an old container at the corner of the tree row. I never could find it again and I imagine it’s still there, crushed under the weight of dirt and years, perhaps to one day be found.
At the edge of the tree-row was a large mature tree that my father built a platform in for me. My brother and sister had platforms built by our dad in other trees in the backyard. My brother built his into a true treehouse with walls and windows. I would sit up in the tree on summer days and look out over the yard, the tree-row, and the cornfield beyond. At the base of the tree, I buried an empty gallon ice-cream bucket and filled it with water…an emergency water supply for my fort! Sometimes I’d bring my wooden machete that my dad had made (he made one for both my brother and me after we watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom!) or a homemade bow and arrow and pretend I was Robin Hood living in the forest.
Often we’d play with our dad in the yard. Of course we played guns, hiding behind trees or the woodpile and popping out to shoot each other with imaginary bullets. Once we built a system of snow caves and passages and our dad played the role of a terrible snow monster! Speaking of snow caves, one epic snowfall covered everything in feet of snow. It drifted right up to the top of our front door. For the next several days we built a warren of tunnels and caves in the driveway, stockpiled snowballs, and played and played!
Somehow I’ve gone from thinking of a darkling beetle, the Eleodes armata, to reminiscing about snow forts and wooden swords. The days of childhood can be a wonderful time!