(Stock photo)
A couple of months ago, a family member noticed a brown bat hanging on our front porch. Since then, our new friend has made frequent appearances. But over the past week, the bat has been there almost every afternoon, resting quietly in the shade just above the door. At first, we weren’t sure what to make of this tiny visitor. Was it lost? Was it dangerous? Or was it simply taking a break from its nightly rounds?
Curiosity soon turned into fascination. So, I did what any curious person would do — I looked it up. That’s when I took a deeper dive into chiropterology — the scientific study of bats. It comes from the Greek words cheir (hand) and pteron (wing), meaning “hand-winged.” And it’s an apt description. A bat’s wing is really a modified hand, with long, finger-like bones stretched out under a thin layer of skin. The more I read, the more amazed I became at these misunderstood creatures.
The brown bat on our porch, I learned, is probably an Eastern small brown bat, a species common throughout much of North America. Far from being pests, these bats are actually helpful neighbors. Each night, a single brown bat can eat hundreds of mosquitoes, moths, and beetles, serving as nature’s pest control service, free of charge.
In the 1920s, the Texas farmer Charles Campbell discovered how bats could protect crops from insect infestations. He built the first “bat tower,” inviting bats to roost nearby so they could feast on pests at night. His experiment was successful, and ever since, people have come to view bats not as villains of the night, but as quiet allies in the balance of nature.
Today, bats are even finding a role in technology. Modern scientists study how bats navigate with sonar to improve drone guidance systems and medical imaging. What once seemed mysterious is now inspiring innovation, a reminder that creation itself holds lessons awaiting our discovery.
Still, bats tend to get a bad reputation. They’re often linked with darkness, caves, and spooky stories, unfair associations that miss their real purpose. Watching our little brown bat tuck itself into the same quiet apex of our porch ceiling each afternoon has reminded me that even the most misunderstood creatures have a place in God’s plan.
As one biologist observed, “To study bats is to see beauty where most see only shadows.” God’s creation is full of surprises, and sometimes, the reminder of divine creativity is right at your door.
So now, when I step out on the porch and look up, I’m grateful for our tiny tenant. Bats are stealthy creatures, yet they remind us that there’s fascination in things we often overlook, and purpose in things we often misunderstand, even the eerie things.
Rather than wishing our bat would stay away, we want our friend to hang around a while and feast on our lakeside mosquito population so that they do not feast on us.
Cove Creek Reflections 