As I saunter up the steps, I catch a glimpse of something foreign. Closer inspection reveals the first ladybug of spring, sitting very still, hitching a ride on the back of my hand.

Mindful of her tiny, hair-like legs, I try to slide an ivy leaf under the small, compact body. She skitters in the opposite direction. Is it the warmth or texture of my skin that attracts my little friend, or does she find the leaf distasteful? I’m fascinated by the asymmetrical spots on the perfectly oval body, and the fact that this tiny creature can transform in a flash to take flight.

I turn my hand and try again, and the minuscule legs, barely visible under the hard, shiny shell, finally accept the leaf. She scampers first to the top and then to the underside of her new home, and remains safely out of sight.