Spotted

Gerard Manley Hopkins got it right when he wrote, “Glory be to God for dappled things.”

Spotted guinea fowl feathers. Fawn freckles. The splotches of white on my dachshund’s chest. The black speckles on a green stag beetle. A white-flecked red mushroom.

I can’t resist a dappled thing.

Last year, during a visit to Cleveland, Ohio, I caught sight of spotted lantern flies. Unintentionally brought from Japan in 2012, these invasive creatures wreak havoc on trees, crops, and wildlife. Agricultural experts declare, “If you see one, kill it on sight!” But I fell hard for the little outlaws’ black speckles on their pinkish-taupe wings, punctuated elaborately with scarlet hindwings.

Neither fast nor agile, the insects clumsily landed on people and even in the lake, as if they’d taken a wrong turn and couldn’t find their way home. Each time one settled, I snatched a peek.

In full assault mode, my friend kept a kill count. But I couldn’t bring myself to join. Though I know that smashing is surely stewardship, I could only hear the heavy sigh of a groaning creation.

Spotted lantern flies are spreading south. When the invaders reach my garden, I’ll likely amend my reluctance to eradicate them. But I’ll likely never stomp before admiring their spots and longing for the day when ecosystems will live in perfect balance as they did before the fall.