I saw them on Friday. I thought I had seen them Wednesday, but I wasn’t too sure. On a
blackberry leaf near our barn, there sat some wonderful and entertaining….dum,
dum, dum….JUNE BUGS!
my goodness, I have spoken about childhood memories, but I truly think my first
summer memory is of chasing june bugs, and yes, I did fly them on string. The
string is sewing thread because the little fellers cannot be weighed down. Now,
PETA, don’t get upset! No june bug of mine has ever suffered a severed leg nor
been mistreated. They have all been set free. Okay, one didn’t make it. What
happened? Well, I was 10 years old, and my sister and I had a pet chicken. Her
name was Woots. She was awesome. The summer Woots was a year old we spent a day
playing with our june bugs. At one point during the day, I was flying my june
bug, and it stopped. I bent down to show Woots, and I said, “What do you think,
Woots?” With a snap, snap, gobble my june bug was gone. Woots had eaten it. All
that was left was a micro-loop where a june bug leg had been bound. It was a sad
a situation, but there was a happy hen.
Okay, our june bugs are not in the open yard yet. I do
intend to buy some thread, catch some, and let Carter and Ammon experience the
tradition. If you’ve never done it, you should. It’s pretty cool.