An enormous palmetto bug, or giant American cockroach (Periplaneta americana), has taken station on the patio.  It currently rests in one corner of the ceiling.

Yes, above my head!

And this is no ordinary roach.  When I say enormous, I mean a leviathan among insects, a six-legged creature the size of a small horse.  Someone (other than me) easily could saddle and ride it cross-country.

In truth, it’s perhaps three inches long (more than seven centimeters).  Did I mention it was a behemoth bug?

Anyway, there will be no photos.  While insects and arachnids and all manner of creepy-crawlies fascinate me to no end, one thing I can’t stand is anything of the roach variety.  They wig me out beyond words.

I have no intention of approaching it so I can capture a few images for the intarweb.  Uh-uh, ain’t gonna happen.

Besides, I tried once despite my better judgment.  When I got close enough such that the setting sun no longer shined directly into the lens, the doggone monster up and moved.

Revolting!

Ever seen a grown man scream like a woman and run for his life?

Well, it’s not pretty, I assure you.

That was my first and last attempt to get a photo.

And why do roaches cause me such undeniable mental anguish and uncontrollable disgust when all other insects elicit intrigue beyond compare?  I haven’t a clue; I just know it’s true.

What will I do when the sun goes down and I can no longer tell where the invader is or what it’s doing?

I’ll probably stop going out on the patio, at least until I’m sure it’s moved on.

Then again, maybe it wants to come inside and visit the cats.  They really like palmetto bugs.