I almost missed this miracle. It was getting on towards midnight, the Sox had somehow hung on to win over Detroit—a different kind of miracle—and I was out on the back porch to whistle in the last of the roaming felines. It was almost warm, and, in response, there were finally a fair number of moths and other night-shift insects drawn to the lights. But deeper in the shadows, I just happened to notice a familiar silhouette, and quickly, I raced inside to grab the camera and the flash unit. From its size, the shape of the wings, and the incredibly fat body, I knew I'd been visited by one of the Giant Silk Moths, and when I got some illumination on the insect, I was pretty sure of the identity: a Polyphemus. To confirm my suspicion, I did something perhaps unwise—I gently but firmly clamped my thumb and forefinger over the wings and brought it into the light. Obligingly, it stayed on the shingles and opened those glorious wings to reveal its striking eyespots: the two large ones on the rear wings and the two smaller ones on the forewings. It's always struck me as odd that the four-eyed Antheraea polyphemus was named to honor the lead Cyclops of Greek mythology, but there you have it. I think this one's a female—I base my decidedly uncertain assessment on the relative narrowness of the moth's antennae, which reach their full width in males—but, whatever its gender, it probably came out of its silk cocoon this afternoon and will soon be heading out into the night to seek a mate and to carry on the species.