Return of miller moths best appreciated from porch

As featured April 20, 2012, on www.cnjonline.com

During the daylight hours it's easy to forget they exist, but as the sun falls they emerge and in the blink of an eye, they’re everywhere.
Their shadows flicker by the window and agitate your peripheral vision; they cover the walls, tickle your skin as they pass by and make you think it's snowing in April when you flip on your high beams along seemingly desolate roads.
You could almost call them a silent invader were it not for the rhythmic dings as they bounce off light bulbs, pings as they ricochet inside lamp shades and of course the yowling of your cat followed by loud thuds when the tile gets the upper hand and your crazed kitty slams into a wall at top speed.
If you somehow manage to sleep through the nocturnal hullabaloo in your living quarters, by morning, there's too many traces left behind to deny it happened, from the faint brown spots on your curtains to the straggler doing back strokes in your nightstand water glass, the crunch of a body under your shoe as you walk to the fridge or the random flutter in the corner spider web.
Congratulations, you have just survived one of many nights to come during the migration of the miller moth.
Spending the winter in gardens and areas of thick vegetation, the army cutworm caterpillar hatches, winters and then matures into the miller moth in the spring when evenings stay warm and plants begin to bloom. They migrate toward higher elevations for the summer, and return to lay eggs in the fall and begin the cycle all over again.
Surrounded by crops, watered lawns and gardens, areas such as ours are a prime location for that cycle to begin and end, giving us a about six weeks of moths every where.
While invasion may seem an appropriate word to describe the thousands of little brown moths that suddenly appear in ours and neighboring regions during the spring months, it really is a bit harsh. Especially when you realize how innocuous the little moths are –though perhaps innocuous isn’t exactly the right word either since they could cause harm to mental health in those prone to easy aggravation.
But otherwise, you can relax.
Sure they may avoid the sunlight, cling to the shadows and have eyes that glow, but you can be assured the Flora lovin', nectar eating miller moth doesn’t want your blood.
Not only that, they don't eat your doilies, they don't chew through the box and eat your oatmeal and they don't spread nasties.
What they are guilty of, if anything, is turn your home into a real live pinball game that can be exponentially more aggravating depending on how many slip inside.
And yes, light is an instant magnet – after all, if you had a body the size of a couple Tic Tacs, you too might think the porch light was the moon, which many scientists believe serves as a crucial moth navigation tool. When there are multiple “moons,” it simply spells moth chaos.
But if you can get past their apparent insanity as they bobble and zing, ping and thunk into things, there's something fascinating about the way they move, living as if each minute might be their last – a distinct possibility when you're a delectable high-fat snack for birds and a host of other creatures.
“It was as if someone had taken a tiny bead of pure life and decking it as lightly as possible with down and feathers, had set it dancing and zig-zagging to show us the true nature of life,” said Virginia Woolf.
Granted, while Woolf only observed one moth, if your kitchen light has become an annual meeting place for a miller moth reunion, you may find it's one of natures performances best appreciated from the porch.