Dear Editor:
During that last brutal heat wave, my husband and I were sitting (should I say sweating) on the deck, overlooking our backyard one evening at dusk. Any other year we would have been on the “mosquito menu” for venturing outside. Some years have been worse than others, and we usually attributed those to a lack of spraying in the Meadowlands. Nevertheless, we would find ourselves awake and up at 2 a.m., bright lights burning in the bedroom, trying to smash the invader, who would invariably emerge and remount his buzz-bombing campaign against us as soon as the lights were extinguished once again.
This year, however, has been different. No mosquitoes hovering around the screens, smelling a tasty human inside and awaiting the opportunity to sneak in. As we remained on the deck, sweltering but biteless, we contemplated why this was. Could it be the drought, drying up those mosquito breeding grounds? Possibly. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something swoop past. My husband had seen it as well. As I was questioning why a bird would be flying around so late in the day, my husband asked aloud, “Was that a bat?” Sure enough, we continued to watch the yard, and it swooped past again, then several more times, joined by two others.
What a glorious sight! I had grown up on a lake in Upstate New York where you could watch bats feed on mosquitoes and water insects each evening. In 25 years, however, I had never seen one in Jersey City.
Thanks to myths, superstitions and fiction, bats have always had an undeserved “bad rap.” They are extremely beneficial little creatures: I say “beneficial” because each bat will consume vast numbers of mosquitoes each night, and I say “little” because the bats found around here are tiny, weighing less than an ounce, or with wings folded up, about the size of a half-dollar. The little brown bats, as they are aptly named, are insectivores. They are nature’s solution to non-chemical spraying insect control. Besides reducing the annoyance of mosquito bites, their presence is very likely protecting us from mosquito-borne viruses such as West Nile Virus, and encephalitis. Bats avoid humans, preferring to sleep all day in a crevice in a tree, behind a shutter, or under an eave. The term “blind as a bat” is a myth. Their eyes are as good as ours, and they have the additional benefit of echolocation, a sonar that allows them to swoop, dive, and turn on a dime, without slamming into something. Let’s explode another myth. Bats do not fly into people’s hair. Nor do they carry bed bugs. Since they are mammals, they can carry rabies, but are no more susceptible to it than raccoons and opossums. Of course, any time you see an animal behaving oddly, for example, a nocturnal animal choosing to be out in the daylight, you should give it wide berth and report it.
So if you are fortunate as we are this year to have our very own bat brigade, enjoy the benefits of their presence. They are maintenance-free. They cost you nothing in insect-control. Just let them do what they do. After seeing them in our backyard in the Heights, as preposterous as it seems, I honestly felt a touch of pride and sense of security. Louisiana should be so lucky.
Jane Flagg