Santa drops in on the little creatures in Jericho.

Nature Comic #56 Dec 24, 2022

   We had just settled our antennae for a long winter's hibernation, when out on the wild brushy habitat there arose such a clatter, I peeked out from my bed to see what was the matter.

A Visit from St. Insectolas

BY Bernie Paquette

A naturalized remake of Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore.

'Twas the night before hibernation, when all through the yard

Not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse or two, or three, or… more - a standard feature in Jericho Center.

The expired flower petals and stalks were standing in the garden thanks to a kind gardener who aspired to bring joy 

In hopes that St. Insectolas soon would be there; the underground lone bees nestled in separate underground burrows all snug in their cocoons;

While visions of metamorphosing into pupae danced in their heads;

And I all wrapped in my leaf litter, and papa long-gone and pushing up daisies,

Had just settled our antennae for a long winter's hibernation,

When out on the wild brushy habitat there arose such a clatter,

I peeked out from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the edge, I crawled like a centipede in cold thick molasses,

Tore opened the last leaf shutter and nearly froze my lady bee mustache.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a luster of warmth yet the temperature was still surely twenty below,

When what to my frosty eyes did appear,

But a miniature sleigh and eight very large crickets,

With a little ole driver who, since he had no backbone, was nearly windswept,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Insect.

More rapid than Dragonflies his coursers they came,

And he buzzed, and rubbed his body parts against another in stridulation, and called them by name:

"Now, Jiminy! now, Mole Cricket! now Pygmy Sand Cricket on Tree Cricket, on Robust Ground Crickets!”

To the top of the leaf pile! To the top of the brush pile!

Now use your large hind legs to jump (50x your body lengths) and all of your legs to run, away one and away all!”

As leaves that before the leaf blower - fly,

when they meet with a lawnmower, mount to the sky; So over to the flower stalks the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of pollen, nectar, and St. Insectolas too—

And then, in a flashing of bright firefly light, I heard above the plant stalk

The prancing and pawing of an overhead accipiter hawk as big as a Christmas hen.

As I drew in my head just to be safe and was turning around,

Down the chimney stalk, St. Insectolas came, down to the ground.

She was dressed in a Chasing Fireflies dress, from her head to her foot,

And her clothes were all tarnished with flower seeds  underfoot;

A bundle of sweets and proteins she had flung on her hind tibula,

And she looked like a Southern Monarch Butterfly, (Danaus erippus), preparing to migrate to Bolivia.

Her eyes—how they twinkled! her dimples, how merry!

Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a red raspberry blossom about to berry!

She was slim, not the least bit plump, a right jolly young elf,

And I, Proud Mary momma laughed when I saw her, despite myself;

A wink of her eye and a twist of her head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

She spoke not a word but went straight to her work,

And filled all the burrows, then turned with a jerk,

And laying her finger aside of her antennae,

And giving a nod, up the flower stalk she climbed aplenty;

She sprang to her sleigh, too her team gave a whiffle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight—

“Happy Winter Hibernation to all, and to all a good night!”