
The tent caterpillar mass emergence on the riverbank seems to have slowed. I’m distressed by the amount of defoliation I see, with cottonwoods and willows that looked so full and lush just a few days ago stripped of most of their leaves. Now the caterpillars are on the move, falling from bare branches, crossing the trails. I don’t love these guys, but I still don’t want to crush them underfoot. I’m vaguely anxious about the karmic consequences of treading on so many living things.
But yesterday, almost an hour after I returned home from my walk, I felt something crawling on my collar—a fuzzy hitchhiker. I tossed him outside, but I’m still shuddering a bit thinking about it tickling my neck.
Western tent caterpillars (Malacosoma californicum) and silk trails on cottonwood, at the
San Pedro Riparian National Conservation Area, Cochise County, Arizona.









