Monday, April 27, 2009

Everything breathes...

Wings of gossamer, like a wasp covered in liquid dish soap...


Life begs to go on doesn’t it? It doesn’t want to end…..Not even when it’s time to end.


I was in my office tending to my plants.


This is a particular past time of mine these days because I am getting ready to put in my garden as soon as all fear of frost departs.


Anyway,


I was tending to my plants and I saw a wasp in the window. I considered swatting it with a rolled up Martha Stewart magazine and then thought, “Would I want to be swatted with a rolled up Martha Stewart magazine? Uh…..Pass.


Wasps have a tendency to be one of the angrier breed of flying, stinging insects and could, and probably would, come after me if I went after it and missed it or injured it.


Nothing worse than a hurt animal.


So I waited and waited trying to think up something to knock him down so I could deal with him on my level.


Soap.


I remembered something which I could be in errs about, but it seemed that something about soap took the wings off of insects …..I couldn’t remember everything about it, but it was a chance I could take with small chance of repercussion. So I went in the kitchen and got some dish soap and added a bit of water to it to loosen it up a piece and moved my plants and splashed it on the wasp on the window.


The wasp seemed slightly confused by its sudden immersion in liquid soap. It fell down to my level and I took the Martha Stewart magazine and gave it a good smack.


It fell to the bottom of the window sill.


I thought it was dead and was going to lie in my window and pass into the ether world to come back as a poodle with a grudge or something. Or go to that place in heaven where wasps go…Or is that a special place in hell?


I went out and folded some clothes and came back in to check on the little bugger and it had moved to the corner of the window.


He/She (I didn’t look for girl/boy parts…I wouldn’t know how to do that on a wasp anyway…) was flailing on its back trying desperately to get up.


How did it survive being hit with Martha Stewart's Easter issue?


Holy cow!


I figured it was in the throes of death and for a minute I thought about putting it out of it’s misery but I couldn’t do it.


It laid there desperately trying to cling to life.


And I thought, “Wow, everything breathes, everything that has life wants to keep it no matter how small and insignificant it is; it will fight for every piece of its existence on this plane.”


I left again and did something else and came back and it was gone….At least I thought it was gone and then I regretted not taking it out with one of my pencils.


It was probably making a wasp line for me. (It was a wasp; they don’t make a bee line).


I even changed my shirt like that was going to fool it in some sort of manner.


But it had to be somewhere, where could it be?


I came back in after a while and found it clinging desperately to one of my pot holders (an actual holder of pots that holds plants).


I thought for half a second about dispatching it again with the Martha Stewart Living magazine….However, I got a different idea.


I grabbed up the pot holder and took it outside and let it go on the bench to find somewhere to meet its demise outside my view. I was not going to allow it to simply sit there and suffer. If it was dying it could die where it wanted to die…If not it was going to be the cleanest wasp around.


But it struck me as amazing at how hard it was working to survive. As much as we humans fear death and get crazy at the thought of our own passing, I couldn’t imagine that something with a brain the size of a pin head would be able to comprehend the end of existence.


Whether it was instincts or a conscious effort it astounded me that something that small would work so hard to keep on keeping on.


Life wants to continue even when it’s the end….Life wants to go on….

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1 comment:

Buffoon said...

Life wants to go on, even when it's at the end?


... but enough about the Republican Party.

Caption of the moment

By Dirigo:


Meanwhile, in the Gulf of Mexico...

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