The Wasp

Here on the west coast, many older apartments and houses don’t have screen coverings over the windows like I had on the prairies. Swarms of flies, mosquitoes, and grasshoppers made it mandatory there. On the west coast, especially on the sixth floor, the occasional stink bug or bee might error in navigation and pay an unintended visit but not often.

The recent spike in temperature resulted in my windows being open wider and more frequently. Vertical blinds shielded the morning sun but allowed a small breeze to bless the day. As I lay on my bed contemplating the day (I do that a lot in retirement simply because I can), I felt several light touches on my bare leg. Looking down I saw a sizeable wasp moving about and seemingly wondering how to get back out of this ingenious trap. I rose, walked to the window and pulled back the blinds and glass while the wasp followed and waited like a pet that needed to pee. The wasp returned to his tasks for the day while I wondered where it found the good manners shown.

The incident reminded me of a day on the farm decades ago when I endured the ramblings of an implement salesman before I could return to another of my many waiting tasks. The salesman had just entered his truck and closed the door when we both noticed a large, unusual, moth-like insect crawl away from us. Quicker than shit through a goose, the salesman leaped from his truck and stepped firmly on the bug. He returned to his truck and prepared to leave again.

“Are they dangerous?” I asked. He answered that he had no idea, started the engine and drove off. I had never seen anything similar to that bug and wondered if it were the last of its species, trying to survive in a world where man in all his infinite wisdom, reigns supreme. My point here is simply that whether it’s an insect in your home or in your yard, think about its role in nature before you pronounce a death sentence. The species you save in the end might play an important role in nature.

I didn’t buy anything from that salesman.

About James

As a semi-retired senior, I researched the story of the lost gold bars of Camp McKinney. My years in agriculture allowed me to comfortably search the rugged BC forest uncovering valuable clues over the years. Although I have paid a high cost for my unwavering search, I have once again seen the magick and power in nature.
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