Bagworms have probably always been around, but I’ve only recently discovered them. Upon first seeing the distinctive, tapered bags of evergreen bagworms, I was amazed that there were creatures whose natural inclinations seemed to mimic tree ornaments. Bagworms get their name from the rather extravagant (and sometimes exquisitely complicated) bags the larvae construct around themselves. These bags consist of silk and bits of whatever plant serves as the bagworm host; a few of the more artistic members of the breed have even been observed incorporating lichen, soil, and non-plant material into their little silk-and-debris condominiums. A number of bagworms are considered monophagous; they’ll only eat one sort of plant; their bags will reflect this. A few are polyphagous; they’ll eat anything. Their little, hanging condos don’t always match the host plant from which they dangle. A few have apparently developed a refined taste for scale insects and are thus—not quite as distasteful to gardners. Members of the evergreen bagfly species build rather nice shelters that resemble organic high-fashion earrings. As you can guess, bagworms are named for the nice silk bags they construct for themselves; you can’t see the silk, however, for all of the other stuff they weave into it. They begin bag-weaving immediately upon hatching, but only adult males ever leave the fruits of their labors (in order to mate, and then die.) Females and infants remain firmly ensconced in their bags, often adding to them as they grow. Bags with frontal room additions are a common sight during mid and late summer months. During the larval stage of life, bagworm moths are voracious eating machines. Once they’ve had their fill, the larvae will permanently attach to their host plant. During the “eat every bit of plant life in sight” stage of the bagworm life-cycle, they’re mobile and can often be seen dragging themselves from one place to another. I found this almost cooperative bagworm on a sidewalk: pretty far from the tree from which it had presumably fallen. I saw other bagworm purses hanging from branches, and so after snapping a few shots (attempting to get the rather sizable worm as its head and thorax emerged) I placed the flagrantly extravagant thing as close to a tree as I could. I got a finger-full of sticky silk for my actions, and actually dragged the critter behind me for a step or two before I realized that somebody felt that I should be incorporated into the nest. (Note to self: bagworms work fast! They’ll put silk on anything if you let them!) Needless to say, I was amused. I’m sure to see more bagworms. I’m particularly interested in finding the colonies of evergreen bagworms so prevalent in Chicago’s swanky neighborhoods. I suspect that their bags are my favorites, and their life-cycles—short—are intriguing. The females of the species don’t rely on laying eggs. Instead, eggs are fertilized inside of the body and remain there. After mating, the females die, thus providing shelter and added protection to the eggs they contain. The larvae emerge (sometimes after overwintering) and simply repeat the short life-cycles of their parents. Evergreen bagflies aren’t as big and impressive as this specimen, but they are oddly cute; this one, with its head and thorax fully exposed (during a period of locomotion) was a marvel of intricate caterpillar-skin patterns and silk-spinning attitude (the best kind.) It was also pretty fast! As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting and Thank You for the fantastic birthday wishes and deidications. I hope you’re all having a great week.