The Moth Had Secrets: What We Learned When We Looked Closer

Some of the most interesting things we have found while roadschooling were never on the itinerary.

On the return trip home from one of our roadschool adventures to Washington, we pulled into a public rest stop off the freeway. We had been on the road, everyone needed a chance to stretch their legs, and it seemed like a good place to stop for a picnic lunch before continuing the drive.

There was nothing particularly educational planned about the stop. We were there to eat, move around for a while and get back on the road.

Then we noticed the moth.

Something Fuzzy on the Ground

The first time we walked past it, the moth was sitting on the ground with its wings tucked in. It was brown and fuzzy, with what looked to us like soft, almost golden antennae extending from its head.

It was interesting enough to make us stop and look, although there was nothing at first glance that hinted at what was underneath those folded wings. We took a closer look and then continued with what we had actually stopped there to do.

We ate our lunch, cleaned up after ourselves and eventually started making our way back toward the car. Our little roadside break was almost over.

On the way out, we passed the moth again.

This time, it looked completely different.

Wait...Are Those Eyes?

Its wings were no longer tucked in the same way, and suddenly there were two markings looking back at us. They looked remarkably like eyes.

Around them was an unexpected flash of pink, which immediately caught my daughter's attention because pink happens to be a favorite. The fuzzy brown moth we had noticed on the way to lunch had been hiding something much more colorful underneath.

Had we only seen it the first time, we never would have known.

That second look changed the entire discovery.

The Moth Really Did Have Secrets

Once we looked more closely and later tried to determine what we had found, the moth appeared to be a Blinded Sphinx moth (Paonias excaecata), a member of the sphinx moth family.

The photographs provided some helpful clues. Blinded Sphinx moths have strongly scalloped brownish forewings, while the hindwings contain a broad area of pink and a blue eyespot. Those characteristics line up remarkably well with what we photographed at the rest stop.

What we had called its “peekaboo eyes” were not eyes at all. They were markings on the hindwings known as eyespots.

That explained something we could see clearly when comparing our two photographs. With the wings positioned one way, much of the color and the eyespots were concealed. When the moth changed its wing position, the pink and eye-like markings underneath became visible.

The difference between the two photographs is striking.

Why “Blinded” Sphinx?

Once we had a possible name, there was more to investigate.

The Blinded Sphinx belongs to the family Sphingidae, the group commonly known as sphinx moths or hawk moths. Butterflies and Moths of North America describes this species as having pale gray to dark reddish-brown forewings and hindwings with a broad pink patch and a single blue eyespot. Its documented range extends across much of the United States and southern Canada, including westward to British Columbia, Washington, northern California and Arizona.

Even the name gave us something else to wonder about. A moth with markings that look so much like eyes being called “blinded” feels almost contradictory, and it became another reminder that identifying something is often the beginning of the questions rather than the end of them.

That is one of my favorite parts of these small discoveries. We start by asking What is that? and usually discover there are much more interesting questions waiting behind the answer.

Two Photographs Told the Story

This particular find also reminded me why I take so many photographs of the things we encounter.

The first photograph shows the moth largely as we initially saw it: brown, fuzzy and interesting, with the more dramatic markings mostly concealed.

The second photograph tells an entirely different story.

Now the pink is visible, and the dark markings with their blue centers seem to be looking directly back at us. Knowing what we know now, those two images preserve more than what the moth looked like; they preserve the discovery itself.

We can see what we missed the first time.

For children, I think there is something especially compelling about that kind of before-and-after observation. Nobody had to tell them that looking more closely mattered. The moth demonstrated it for us.

We Did Not Need a Moth Lesson

There was no nature journal waiting in the car. I had not printed anything about moth anatomy, planned an insect study or chosen the rest stop because it offered an educational opportunity.

We were eating lunch.

That is exactly why I like this memory so much.

One of the ideas I have come back to repeatedly in our homeschool is that we do not always need to create the interesting thing. Sometimes we simply need enough room in the day to notice when something interesting is already there.

Had we hurried past the moth the first time, nothing would have been wrong with that. Had we loaded the car from a different direction after lunch, we might never have seen it again.

Instead, we happened to pass the same little patch of pavement twice and saw two very different versions of the same creature.

The Second Look Was the Lesson

There is a tendency, especially when homeschooling, to think about learning in terms of what information a child retained. I could certainly make a list of facts connected to this encounter: sphinx moth, hindwings, eyespots, range and identification characteristics.

Those are interesting, and learning them gave us a better understanding of what we had seen.

What I remember most, though, is the act of noticing.

The kids saw that the moth had changed. They immediately recognized something that had not been visible before, and my daughter was drawn to the unexpected pink. What had originally been a fuzzy brown moth on the pavement became considerably more interesting because we happened to look again.

That is a lesson I cannot neatly plan.

Nature has a way of rewarding a second look.

Roadschooling Happens Between the Destinations, Too

When I think about roadschooling, the obvious learning experiences are easy to remember. National parks, museums, historic sites, Junior Ranger programs and destinations we intentionally choose all give us opportunities to encounter things we would not necessarily see at home.

This moth reminds me that some of the best discoveries happen in between those places.

They happen at picnic tables, parking lots, roadside stops and stretches of a trip that were never supposed to become part of the educational experience. The location does not need to be impressive for something worth noticing to be there.

We had stopped at that rest area because everyone needed lunch and a break from the car.

We left knowing the fuzzy brown moth on the pavement had been carrying bright pink wings and two convincing-looking eyes where none of us expected to find them.

Not bad for a lunch stop.

A Scribe Note

Some discoveries do not need a lesson plan because the experience creates the question for us.

We almost walked past this moth knowing only what it looked like with its wings tucked in. Seeing it a second time revealed something completely unexpected and gave us a reason to look closer, ask questions and eventually learn what we had found.

Sometimes curiosity begins with nothing more complicated than realizing there is more to see.