It is at this time of year that our usually pleasant sleep is marred by that ever-present buzzing of a Christmas beetle. I do not know if anybody else finds this quite as much of a trial as I do, but it is remarkable how often I have found myself lying in bed for an hour or more, wishing that sleep, that most wonderful of pastimes, would descend upon me, only to find myself listening, once again, to that terrible buzzing. Some nights I may wonder if it really is a Christmas beetle, or perhaps some new bug which has decided to bring its malicious buzzing into my domain, but sure enough, on the next morning, I will awake to find a new Christmas beetle's corpse lying under my bed. I marvel at how short their lifespans must be if every time I hear one of these poor little bugs, I awake to find it dead. But I have come to a conclusion as to why these little insects feel the supreme need to disturb the sleep of all around them, and I shall share this with you forthwith.
The truth is that a Christmas beetle is not vicious or malicious at heart. It is really quite a loving creature, and wants nothing more than the companionship of a human. You must understand that it, being an insect, does not have the privilege that we experience of a warm and comfortable bed. Indeed, the poor thing must make do with sleeping on ceilings, or in paper bags. (In fact, they are so eager to find a comfortable resting place that they fly into one's gift bags with tissue paper sticking out... True that tissue paper looks extremely comfortable, but it does rather amplify the beetle's buzzing as it realizes in horror that it is more suffocating than comfortable, and it tries to escape. Alas, these attempts are rarely successful, unless aided by a sympathetic person who does not wish for it to die in quite so painful a way.)
In its attempts to procure a human companion, it must however fight off the magnetic pull of a light bulb. If you have ever watched a Christmas beetle trying to do this, you will find that it really is a most amusing spectacle. To begin with, it is rather like a dream, in which you never how it started; when a Christmas beetle begins its attempts to escape the light, you may watch it for quite some time, without being able to remember seeing it arrive. It simply seems to have always been there, despite the fact that you looked in that very spot a mere ten minutes before, and saw nothing. But, once it is there (however that may have occurred), you may watch its antics with a somewhat merry, yet sympathizing attitude. The first thing that one notices is how the poor creature seems to aim for you. Each time it leaves the light, you see this flying missile coming for your face, only to see it suddenly pulled back by the magnetic force of the light. At first you are shocked, because you may feel that the insect wishes to harm you, but you quickly feel a sense of compassion for the poor little thing, as it seems so hopelessly to continue flying away from this light, only to get drawn back again. Each time this happens, it seems to make a little more progress, until it finally realizes that the further it manages to fly, the more force it is pulled back with.
It is at this point in its flight plan that it decides to try a different method. Rather than going straight for its target, it attempts moves that even the CIA would be proud of. First, it realizes that as long as it is in the power of the light, it will never reach its destination, so it maintains that it must find a safe hiding place, which is closer. This may be a cupboard, or a shelf - anywhere that the light cannot reach it. Depending on the distance of the new destination from the light, the beetle may even find its new flight plan successful. These occasions do not arise often, however, and so you must watch the creature try time after time to reach its new destination, doomed to fail. After a period of time, you may find yourself noticing that its technique is gradually changing. Realizing that the light is not letting it get where it wants to go, the beetle begins flying in circular formation, thus confusing the magnetic force somewhat. However, these attempts are as unsuccessful as the last. Indeed, I have watched just this evening a beetle performing the perfect mid-air circle, only to find that once it reached a certain point, it was once again too small to resist the power of the light. The light, not wishing to waste time as the beetle has done, decides to rather go for the straight-line method than the circular, and so the beetle that just seconds before was merrily on its way to freedom, making beautiful circles in the air, now finds a magnetic lasso thrown around its waste, and it is pulled in the straightest of straight lines, faster than it has ever before traveled, towards the light.
After this diligent beetle has attempted this a few times, it comes to a realization that it is quite hopeless. And so, after a number of fruitless attempts to maintain a companion while the light is shining, it gives in to the power of the light and sits on the ceiling, biding its time.
Once the light has been turned off, the Christmas beetle decides that its time has come. At last, it can find its companion without the light destroying its every attempt. What it has forgotten, however, is that it is as blind as a bat at night time. You see, these beetles have got an incredibly short memory span: a little longer than a goldfish, but not more than 10 minutes. So, when this time of night comes, they forget that they couldn't see once the lights were switched off the previous night. As a result, when the light is turned off and they are no longer prey to its overwhelming power, Christmas beetles must fight their way through the dark to find their beloved human. It is now that we humans must endure that infernal buzzing while we try to sleep. The beetle, not remembering where you are, due to its short-term memory loss, flies all around the room, trying all of the nooks and crannies in its attempt to find you. Then, once it has been around the room once, it has forgotten where it has already looked; we are therefore made to listen to its wild, and at this stage frantic, attempts to find us. And of course, turning on a light to assist it in its search does no good at all, because it is once again drawn to the power of the light.
And so it is clear that the life of a Christmas beetle is rather trying. It is no wonder that we wake up in the mornings to find these beetles all around our rooms. For a creature as small as that, an entire night of escaping the clutches of the light-demon and then searching the room for its companion sixteen times, all of its energy goes quite quickly.
We should therefore remember the unfortunate hopelessness of these poor creatures when we find them around our homes. Respect the fact that they may never acquire their greatest desire. And, if by some small chance they do happen to find their way to you, don't chase them away - rejoice with them in their success! They will be eternally grateful.
