Welcome to this issue of Stumped by Nature, where we notice nature lurking just beyond our screens, curate a list of outside-y events in Austin, and build community with other folks in the thick of the startup ecosystem.
In this week’s issue:
❌ Indianmeal moths
🌤️ Upcoming outdoors events
Let’s dig in!
-Nicole
PS. ATX Outsiders is our community where people get to know each other IRL outside each month. Join us!
Upcoming events I’m hosting:
Tuesday, June 30: Austin Reading Club: Turns out there’s an appetite for people who want to read together silently. Join us with the book you’ve been wanting to sink into.
Sunday, July 19: Reverse Brain Rot: Picture it: read for an hour, jump in Barton Springs, then write for an hour with the thoughts jostled loose from your reading time. The perfect summer Sunday morning?
EVENT RECAP
The first of our Reverse Brain Rot series was last weekend, and I cannot overstate how nice it was to sprawl in a field with permission/peer pressure to read, write, and snoop on what other folks are reading (plus their backup book(s)!).
The last batch of attendees to leave decided to pile into a car to visit the downtown library together. What a wholesome Sunday morning.
NATURE SPOTLIGHT
I’ve been saying openly that I like nature.
I was wrong.
My like of nature is conditional.
I’ve discovered that I particularly unlike nature when it has taken up residence inside my home.
Today, unfortunately, we’re digging into Indianmeal moths.
Growing up in Appalachia, I’m no stranger to the horrors of moths. The Mothman legends were evergreen content, threaded through elementary school slumber parties, Appalachian Lit curriculum, and The Neighbor’s Bushes during flashlight tag. The TL;DR: a foreboding winged creature was spotted consistently in Point Pleasant, WV, leading up to a catastrophic suspension bridge collapse. Cryptids be cryptin’.
Adult me has thoughts about this: 1. googling the Mothman home alone after dark was actually scary and I don’t recommend it 2. one of my book clubs is currently reading Crescent City, so this winged man figure seems ripe for a broody, mysterious back story—surely this fan fiction already exists.
So moths. Very scary.
In my more modern, Austin-world, moths have had a mixed reputation: an interlude of delight through the mothing events in Pease Park, where moths are framed as a vital indicator species of a thriving ecosystem, but also warnings from my beekeeping world: slideshows projected in barn-bound education sessions, again at the Senior Activity Center monthly meeting—with moths in stretched pixels looming as threats to our hives.
And then the real life horror of finding moths in my pantry.
I don’t want my pantry to be a thriving ecosystem.
What and why are these?
Indianmeal moths, commonly known as pantry moths.
They’re pretty awful:
Adult moths are mostly decorative. Gray-bodied. Coppery wingtips. Smudge like smoke when squished.
Strange the Dreamer nails the imagery of moths dissolving if this, somehow, has you craving YA fantasy
the larvae are the real banes of existence—they spin silk webbing through your grains and cereal in some grotesque Rumpelstilskin cosplay
Rice and flour are not meant to be animated
If your cereal crumbs don’t rattle around like crumbs should, it's because your intended food is breeding material.
If you see one moth in your pantry, this is not the time for optimism. This is the time for full Doomsday thinking.
Not ideal.
The word of the day: infestation
Indianmeal moths are breeders. Prolific breeders. Each female can lay 300 eggs at a time.
The eggs and newly hatched larvae are so small, they’re difficult to see with the naked eye
The larvae have three sets of legs near the head and five sets of prolegs protruding from the abdomen
The eggs have that special nature trait called diapause where they can wait until the ideal circumstances to kick the growth process into gear, and their patience can lead to Infestation 2.0, Infestation 3.0, Infestation 4.0,
They can bite through plastic and cardboard
They have a wide range of appetites. Love the grains. Plant-based pet food, birdseed, cereal, soup mixes. Pasta, rice, flour. Mixed nuts. But also chocolate. Even chili pepper.
You can find larvae in unopened cellophane wrapped products. Even if you bought the still-sealed items in bulk.
The word frass means insect excrement. It’s everywhere too.
They can pupate on clothing, so any source of clothing should be inspected to prevent reinfestation.
Their life cycles are an average of 50 days
These moths are on every continent in tropical habitats, excluding Antarctica. They’re most commonly found in Florida.
Food storage facilities worldwide? Yeah, man. They’re there.
With the flag that a commenter on the internet referred to Indianmeal moths as “the living version of glitter,” you could try to clear up an infestation:
Remove everything. Trust nothing.
To save food, there’s advice about freezing it, then nuking it, then sifting out the insect fragments as best you can before consuming.
Or you could just move, leaving all of your possessions behind.
With a perpetual sense of nausea at the awareness of the not-zero quantity of Indianmeal moth spawn I’ve ingested lately, I’m grateful that I’ve sent gift cards for recent meal trains and that I knew better than to research the FDA’s opinion of a reasonable quantity of bug bits permitted in packaged foods. I like some amount of ignorance as a staple in my cuisine.
So now: pantry-zero. My snack options are pheromone-laced moth traps, the larvae waiting to emerge, and/or a vinegar-water spray mixture I unleash in moments of moth-induced psychological distress.
I have tubs of things in quarantine—the canned goods, sub-quarantine bags for items I didn’t have the heart to purge—surely moths are not big on vanilla?
And I have economic mental gymnastics about the purge—which $3 items am I holding onto that could proliferate the next generation of moth? There’s a playground of sunk cost and scarcity and waste avoidance and all or nothing and extreme ick, all competitively rattling for shelf space.
I am hopeful for a future of mindlessly snacking.
Have you ever had pantry moths? Do we need a support group?
UPCOMING EVENTS
🗓️ June 25: Natural Navigation: make your wayfinding dreams come true
🗓️ June 26: Prehistoric Hunting: the Atlatl: side note: atlatl would get me out in a spelling bee
🗓️ June 26 : Pitch and Run: All paces welcome
🗓️ June 26: Bird Walk with Travis Audubon: Yes, birding is cool. Embrace it.
🗓️ June 27: The Board Walks: get you some community
🗓️ June 27: Kayak Trash Cleanup: think of it as a core workout
🗓️ June 27: Town Lake Clean: same idea, with the promise of snack(s) after
🗓️ June 27: Two-Step Night: cowgear permitted
🗓️ June 27: Pride Picnic: including a cyanotype station
🗓️ June 27: Bee-O-Diversity: meet some local buddies
🗓️ June 27: Rose and Shine: Free Yoga in the Garden
🗓️ June 28: Poetry for the People: Six local poets + free coffee
🗓️ June 28: Walk & Talk: it’s a classic combo
🗓️ June 28: ATX Book Fair: You can always add to your TBR list
🗓️ June 28: Poetry & Music in the Park: If you’re not afraid of open mics, this exists
🗓️ June 30: Austin Reading Club: I’m hosting this! Read the book you’ve been wanting to make time for.
🗓️ July 1: Thought Experiments on Patios: For people who slant toward deep talk
🗓️ July 6: Austin Ruck Club: dip into Barton Springs afterward
🗓️ July 19: Reverse Brain Rot #2: I’m hosting this! It'll be both toasty and intellectually nourishing.
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
We’ve reached our empty-nesting era.
That’s all for this week!
In the meantime, I hope the only moths in your life are outside.
-Nicole
OPTIONAL SIDE QUESTS
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🪵 Are you looking for a community of people in the startup ecosystem who go outside together? I’ve got you.
🪵 Are you sitting on a misogi-esque story? Spill.
🪵 I also write essays: this one is about witnessing a bison harvest.
🪵 Is this newsletter not your vibe? Forward it to your enemies to make them suffer too.
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