I I was in the kitchen chopping up some drumhead cabbage when I noticed an unusual, shiny droplet running down the side of the purplish cruciferous vegetable. There was something odd about the way the droplet was moving, but it wasn't until it slid down and began to sparkle on the chopping board that I realized it was a stain.
These primitive, wingless insects belong to the order Zygentoma, an ancient group with a lineage that stretches back more than 400 million years, long before the dinosaurs roamed the Earth. The fact that they have remained largely unchanged and now thrive in human habitation is a testament to their adaptability and resilience.
I first encountered silverfish when I was about 5 years old, in the cool, dark sanctuary of my grandmother's pantry. I remember turning on the light and letting the alien-looking creatures retreat among the jars of homemade jam, bags of flour, and baked goods.
They prefer moist, humid places, so they are most often found in kitchens and bathrooms, but are best known as the natural enemies of libraries. Search for them on Google and ads for pest control services will pop up, with dire warnings about their ability to destroy household items. Indeed, with their tendency to feed on starchy paper, wood, fabrics and glues, in large numbers they can cause serious deterioration to books, archival documents, wallpaper, upholstery and clothing. But because they also feed on food scraps, dust, dander and the molted skin and carcasses of their kin, and because they reproduce slowly, their presence goes unnoticed in most homes.
When the spot came to a halt, I took my telephoto lens from the windowsill and examined its slightly flattened, elongated, teardrop-shaped body. Under magnification, the scales that formed its carapace had the dented appearance of hammered pewter. In addition to two antennae used to navigate through dark crevices, it had three long tail filaments that trailed along to analyze the substrate. Before I could take in more details, the creature flew off again. Propelled by three pairs of translucent legs, its swift, undulating movements across the granite countertop gave the impression of a small, silvery fish swimming through storm-gray waters.
