I was having a conversation at work the other day about
ladybirds, as you do, and it reminded me of a summer holiday in Norfolk let’s
be precise, Hunstanton; when I was growing up we had a caravan at Hunstanton
and spent many – many – many holidays there.
Most of these holidays blur seamlessly together but on one of
them there was a plague of ladybirds.
When I say plague I mean the air was thick with them at times, you
crunched along paths and pavements as they coated everything. In our caravan they made stripes in the folds
of the curtains and even prevented the water-heater from working as the pilot
light was blocked by tiny ladybirds in the pipe. Worst of all, they bit. Yes they did, they definitely bit. People will tell you that they cannot/do not
bite, but they did something that felt like a bite and it hurt.
A quick internet search told me that the plague happened in 1976 after a long dry summer. Ah yes, I remember long dry summers…… vaguely……
I am fond of ladybirds, but I also still look at them a little warily, I wonder if one day there will be a horror film based on a plague of ladybirds – terror from cute things is always the most frightening I think (don’t start me off on stories that involve toys coming to life). I often wonder if I will come home one day and they will be spelling out messages to me on the side wall of the house.
Sometimes I think I over-think things.
