I'm not terribly big on fancy-schmancy scientific names for things, simply because I firmly believe that those fancy-schmancy scientific names for things exist simply so that people can feel superior by flaunting their ability and their allegedly higher learning by saying random things in Latin. On the flip-side of this, I rather like the Latin names for things, as those big, fancy-schmancy words usually translate to such descriptions as: ugly green thing with spots, or, mostly-squishy stuff that comes out of other stuff or those-things-that-fly-and-scare-the-living-daylights-out-of-the-bossy-nosy-lady-next-door. Okay, I'll admit that I don't know how to say any of those things in Latin, but I do know that many of the anatomical terms we recognize do translate to the little squishy thing behind that funny looking bone. In terms of living things: well, Latin is wonderfully descriptive, as well. I thought of Latin names for things as I photographed a rather sizable (extinct) colony of bagworms at home on a fence on Chicago Avenue. The fence in question surrounds an empty lot: the graveled remnant of a fast food joint with origins if Florida. The fast food joint in question was surrounded, at least partially, by various evergreens, and evergreen bagworms (being the intrepid explorers that they are) found the now-neglected and overgrown plants peeking through a fence on Chicago Avenue. The duo photographed here are the bag-remains of two females. Judging by their coloration (and size) these were late-growth bags and the females once contained inside are no longer biologically active. Evergreen bagworms (Thridopteryx ephemeraeformis for those who like Latin) live throughout the Chicago area. I suspect they're fairly common throughout the North American landmass. As bagworms are defined by their eating habits, I can say—with relative certainty—that the two ex bagworms here (their bags are actually winter-damaged, indicating that the post-mortal females inside, are simply little more than shelter [and food] for their eggs.) are juniper bagworms, or at any rate, evergreen bagworms, or as fancy people call them: Thridopteryx ephemeraeformis. There are dozens and dozens of these post-mortal husks lining various plants along Chicago Avenue, a few of them with dried and desiccated mating appendages protruding from their bottom ends. I was only able to find one such post-coital bag, and I'm sure to post it a bit later. For now, here are two of the less-gray bagworm bags that I photographed during a slow, leisurely walk to what is now my not-exactly-new job. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and as soon as I get my laptop back (or a new one) I hope to be back to posting and commenting regularly.