A Naif in the Forest by Darrell Berger

Wing Tips to Hiking Boots: Musings of a New, Full-Time Poconos Resident 

I found this Io moth at the foot of my front door. I gently nudged it. It responded with faint movement. I noticed a smudge of yellow, moth-colored dust on the door window, and something slightly viscous. 

It is a sad and unintended consequence of our glass doors and sliders that we occasionally kill a bird or moth. As this moth was still alive, though barely, I left him alone. Violet the Corgi and I exited from the basement. 

A few hours later, I checked the moth. His wings had retracted, the colorful orbs not exposed. I nudged him again. I sensed no movement, left him alone. 

Still later I noted that his wings were again expanded. This time when I nudged him, he reached out and grasped my finger! He seemed to be saying, “I feel a little better now, but could you please get me out of this doorway. I feel dangerously exposed.” 

He very slowly climbed onto my hand. I moved him to the corner of the deck, shaded by a potted plant. He slowly left my hand for the shade. I checked later in the afternoon; he was gone. I searched and didn’t see him. I conclude that he flew away, with a story of danger and survival to tell his mates. 

The Io moth (pronounced EYE-oh, from a character in Greek mythology) exposes its colorful wings when threatened, to scare away predators. The male is yellow, the female much larger than the two-inch wing span of my visitor, and rust colored. They are nocturnal, so my friend felt threatened after his collision, finding himself in the daylight, severely injured. Note in this photo that either his left front leg or antenna is missing a segment. 

I feel terrible when our glass doors injure a creature. When I can help it out of its predicament, I am happy that I have limited the damage my presence in the forest causes to those who have resided here far longer. Moderating the damage, doing as little harm as possible, is literally the least I can do.