Brown-shaded Gray

I love when first-of-spring things mingle with last-of-winter things. This morning I’ve juncos, finches, and siskins zipping about the yard—birds of winter not quite ready to hit the breeding grounds. Beyond them, down in some wet spot in the woods, newly awakened chorus frogs cry out for mates. The mates will come, and an orgy will ensue—you can be sure of that. And then there are the less noticeable beauties (all around us, if we’re looking) such as this Brown-shaded Gray, watching from the back deck as I go about my morning. Soon this cryptic moth will flitter off to do whatever it is such quiet, mysterious things do (probably sleep on a tree somewhere, if I know anything at all) and I’ll be sorry to see him go. Thankfully he’ll return at dusk—along with the bats and Barred Owls—when he and others like him cling to the house like little impermanent ornaments to bask in the artificial light.


Brown-shaded Gray by Ken Childs


(From the book HEARTVINES)