Spitting so accurately, who exactly spat it?

By Shi Chao-hsiang

Trail No. 9 Observer's Notes on the Spittlebug

The Trail No. 9 observer is a woman in her forties and an insect enthusiast. A few years ago, because of poor health, she stepped down from her job to recuperate. Every morning she takes a walk on Trail No. 9, and she often pauses along the way to observe the many kinds of insects on the trail.

By chance, I met the Trail No. 9 observer, and the two of us hit it off right away. As she described the habits and conditions of insects, she was thoroughly in the style of Fabre; listening to her describe insects is truly one of life's great pleasures. Afraid of forgetting such interesting stories, I jotted down some of the highlights.

Whose spit is so accurate?

One day at the end of June this year, a glaring ray of sunlight fell into the Trail No. 9 observer's eyes. Looking closely, she saw spit on a stem of silvergrass. The Trail No. 9 observer stopped to watch and exclaimed in amazement: "What kind of person is so skillful that they can spit so accurately, right onto the tip of a silvergrass stem?"

The next day, passing the same spot, another ray of light caught her eye. The Trail No. 9 observer was secretly startled: How can someone be so uncanny, spitting in the same place every day, and the spit hasn't even dried yet? She must have arrived not long before me. Could someone be deliberately following me?

The Trail No. 9 observer thought it over carefully. It should be impossible for anyone to be following her. Could it be that insect?

On the third day, she went to the same spot and looked carefully. It really was the "spittlebug."

Seeing that it was indeed that blob of foam, the Trail No. 9 observer was overjoyed. She immediately cut off the whole stem and took the spittlebug, along with the branch, home to observe.

While I was chatting with the Trail No. 9 observer, she immediately showed me that spittlebug.

I took a rough look. It was already dried spit, and it still had the look of foam. If not for the Trail No. 9 observer's explanation, I would not have known that the spittlebug bites a hole in the stem, and from that hole a sweet sap continuously flows. The spittlebug licks and feeds on this sap, living comfortably inside the foam. Because the stem had been broken off, there was no more sap flowing, and with no food, the spittlebug turned itself into a pupa.

If not for the Trail No. 9 observer's explanation, I really would not have been able to tell that it was a pupating insect.