I visited the West Virginia Department of Agriculture's Insect Museum, and I met perhaps the biggest beetle fan since the mop-haired lads from England wanted to hold our hands. But these beetles don't sing, they just sit quietly in their little wooden display cases.

Laura Miller, whose official title is taxonomic entomologist, is actually a cross between a museum curator, a librarian, an explorer, a researcher and a laboratory technician. She walks between the 70-plus cabinets of the state's insect collection like a proud mama.

It looks innocuous enough when you arrive; the wood-tone cabinets look like they hold files. Then Laura opens a door and slides out a wooden case with a glass top, and visitors get to see the wildlife that's hiding behind those cupboard doors.

There are a quarter-million cataloged insects in there! There are butterflies, moths, pretty things, mean-looking creatures - and a whole lot of beetles. Probably a good third of the collection is Coleoptera, or beetle.

There's even a beetle that's blue and gold, and it graces the logo of the entomologists group in West Virginia. One particular case has beetles with evil-looking pincers on them. Of course, those are on the males, and they are used to fight for female attention, Laura explained with a laugh.

Laura truly loves insects. She admits they are all intent on eating away at our plant life, but she said part of the reason they become pests is because their natural predators and their natural habitats are often shrinking due to man's sprawl.

Weeds? Laura loves 'em. I want to invite her over just because she would actually appreciate my weeds! She said she's not too happy when she encounters a perfect lawn, complete with perfect flower beds. That's because many of the insects she tracks love the weeds that many folks want to pull. Not that she's crazy or anything. She concedes she's a bit frightened of wasps, "unless I have my net - then I feel a bit better."

I was comforted by the fact that Laura didn't mind that I kept calling them bugs instead of insects.

"They're all bugs until they are identified," she said in her soft voice, smiling. Born and raised in Mexico City, she received a master's degree from Marshall University and her wealth of knowledge about insects seems endless. She enjoys searching for insects as she hikes, and she seemed thrilled when I showed interest in her job and in the contents of all of those bug boxes.

Her co-worker, Berry Crutchfield, often fields calls and letters from West Virginians who have unidentified insects in their woods, yards or gardens.

He then can give recommendations for control of the pests. And when the entomologists at the West Virginia facility can't identify a strange creature, they have some high-tech tools that allow them to network with entomologists worldwide.

Recently, someone brought in a clementine (bought in a local grocery store, but grown in Chile) that had some strange-looking worms in it. They used a fabulous camera created specifically for photographing insect specimens, and were able to send the images to other entomologists to find out what was eating the fruit.

Why is this important? "Bad" bugs can be carried into our area by very unwitting carriers. It's believed that the emerald ash borer came to West Virginia in firewood brought from Michigan to a campsite in the New River Gorge. As I wrote last week, the woolly adelgid came to America on a plant ordered from overseas by a well-meaning gardener.

In the building where Laura and all of those bugs hang out, there are many more folks dedicated to the insect population of our state. They track the gypsy moths, they follow the emerald ash borer, they look for all of the bad (and the good) insects that inhabit the Mountain State's gardens, forests and wild lands.

Some of them speak to school groups, taking the pretty or unusual insects for show and tell. But I have to admit I was fascinated by the box upon box of teeny, tiny beetles the size of the heads of the pins on which they are lined. Again, as always, my family thinks I am so weird. While the kids think insects are pretty fascinating, the fact that I was so excited to visit this "bug museum" made them think I had gone over the edge.

If you have an insect that's just bugging you, you can send it to Berry Crutchfield or Laura Miller, and they will help you identify it and give you advice on how to deal with it. But don't just pop it into an envelope ("We had one come in and it was just a smear on the inside of the envelope ...").

Call the folks at the Plant Industries Division, 558-2212, and they will tell you how to preserve and ship it so that it gets to them in the best shape for identification. If you want to visit the insect collection, contact Laura and she will help you. The insects are kept at the Gus R. Douglass Agricultural Center at Guthrie.

Politically correct shrub

Kay Legg sent an e-mail asking about a beautiful bush that's seen on MacCorkle Avenue in Kanawha City.

"One of my autumn delights on my way to work each day is the glimpse of the callicarpa (so I have been told) in front of Rep. Shelley Capito's office in Kanawha City. It gets even more spectacular when the leaves drop off and the berries are suspended from the drooping stems. If you happen to get a view of this, could you tell me what variety this is," Kay wrote.

I asked Holly Hoffman, an incredible garden designer and plant expert from TerraSalis, to help identify the bush.

"I went by Shelley's office and the plants in question are indeed 'Callicarpa dichotoma,'" Holly writes. "What variety I don't know but 'Early Amethyst' is one of the most common ones on the market. They really are beautiful, aren't they?"

Sara Busse is a Charleston resident and master gardener. She may be contacted at sjbu...@gmail.com.