Sholeh: Not sure what to wear? Ask an insect

Fall and unpredictable weather go hand in hand. Take the next two weeks in Coeur d’Alene. Highs range from the 70s to 50s with chilly nights. A morning coat is a must, but it’s too early to pack away summer T-shirts.

Look to the creepy crawlies.

Insects are good at sensing what’s to come, picking up small environmental clues that people tend to miss. 

According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, providing Americans with a variety of natural statistics and practical advice since 1792, for centuries humans have looked to insects to predict the weather. Their scientific accuracy is mixed, but enough truth and belief are held to come up with these old adages:

 “See how high the hornet’s nest, ‘twill tell how high the snow will rest.”

“If ants their walls do frequently build, rain will from the clouds be spilled.”

“When bees to distance wing their flight, days are warm and skies are bright; but when their flight ends near their home, stormy weather is sure to come.”

 And the less rhyming but just as oft-repeated predictors:

“If ant hills are high in July, winter will be hard.”

“When cicadas are heard, dry weather follows and frost in six weeks.”

“The early arrival of crickets on the hearth means an early winter” (but) “the more quickly crickets chirp, the warmer the temperature.”

“Flies gather in houses just before the rain.”

Spiders do, too. They’re smart enough to leave their webs for shelter when they sense rain coming. You’ve probably noticed more spiders inside during storms and as temperatures cool. Most are harmless, so I let a few autumn housemates stay in entryway corners, hoping they’ll catch a few flying things and save me the trouble.  

They say that when spiders spin larger webs, we can expect things to get colder than usual. When the webs “fly” they say the air will be dry; webs need some moisture to stick together.

Turning to arthropods, perhaps you’ve heard of the woolly worm or woollybear. This tiger moth larva has black and rusty brown bands. According to folklore, more black than brown suggests a harsh, cold winter, while more brown than black means a mild one. 

A highly publicized experiment by a curator at the American Museum of Natural Science used caterpillar samples in 1948. He did find some color correlation to the adage, albeit with a small sample. 

Still, Old Woolly became something of a Punxsutawney Phil. Just for kicks, the city of Banner Elk, N.C., has held a Woolly Worm Festival in October for 46 years (sadly canceled this year due to Helene). The highlight is a caterpillar race: The winner’s color predicts the harshness of winter to come.  

We can’t close without mentioning the cicadas, crickets and grasshoppers. 

So much sound from such small creatures. If you pay attention, they do show patterns. 

Growing up in Texas, a tornado once formed over the pasture next to our home. I distinctly remember how the steady drum of their songs so abruptly stopped — from a loud concert to dead silence. I looked up and saw dark swirls slowly circling in the otherwise blue sky, just before the funnel started to descend. Time to go inside.

Insects, so often vilified and judged as pests, can be valuable allies.

 • • •

Sholeh Patrick is a columnist for the Hagadone News Network. Email sholeh@cdapress.com.