Newborn maggots are essentially invisible to the naked eye. They’re like tiny specks of dust that decided to become mobile. You’d need a magnifying glass to see them, which is why you usually only spot them when they’ve hit the “teenager” phase—big, plump, and hungry.
As they grow, they go through instars—fancy science talk for “they get bigger and more obvious.” At full size, they’re about the length of a fingernail clipping, but much more wiggly. And just before they turn into flies, they turn dark brown and stop moving. It’s like they’re taking a nap before their big fly debut.
A Personal Anecdote: The Day I Found a Colony
I once left a bag of potatoes in my pantry for way too long. I’m talking months. When I finally opened it, there they were: a writhing white mass. I honestly thought it was a science experiment gone wrong. They looked like a pile of old, wet Q-tips that had been resurrected.
I screamed. My cat ran away. But then I got curious. I poked one with a chopstick (because I’m civilized), and it just… undulated. It was like a tiny, blind snake. That moment, I realized: maggots aren’t evil. They’re just really, really good at being maggots.