Maybe it’s the movies, maybe it’s the blue alien eyes, but invertabrates have always fascinated me.

In theory I’m interested in getting hands on with the little guys (or those that aren’t so little) – but there are two hangups here.

Issue #1:

I have a love hate relationship with the ocean. I love looking at it. I hate being in it. (I blame that on watching too many Peter Benchely movies as a kid). And since a fear of the water makes exploring the wide world of cephalopods difficult, I’ve sort of written off marine biologist as a career path.

But exploring the ocean through the pages of a book is a different story. It’s something I’ve done as a kid and something I continue to do as an adult.

For example, did you know the esophagus of a squid passes through the middle of it’s brain? Cool! And there’s tons more interesting facts about cephalopods … like octopuses navigating through mazes. And squids ejecting ink to form a false bioluminescent body, which  fools predators into thinking the ink IS the squid.

Issue #2:

I have trouble sitting still. I blink a lot. My hands shake. I’ve tried to mount slides of fruit flies and bed bugs – I do a poor job. And my reaction speed sucks. Put me in a lake, give me a net and tell me to catch dragonflies and I’ll catch one or two damselflies, if I’m lucky. (Damselflies are the sluggish things that basically float there, begging to be caught.)

But that’s not all on me. Dragonflies are like the fighter jets of the lake. They look menacing, but are actually quite docile. They don’t sting. And they actually serve a great purpose for anyone who’s visited a lake without bug repellent - killing mosquitoes!

Scientists have observed dragonflies eating up to 300 mosquitoes per day. Thus the nickname “mosquito hawk.”

I’m too tired to write more facts. Read Conniff’s book if you want more, okay? Alrighty then.