HS #74 2020.9.9
Living with Others
As is my custom, I spent several weeks this past July and August at my UP cabin on the Au Train River. Wanting to leave all Lower Peninsula negatives at the Bridge, I maintain a natural indigenous wildflower lawn. That is, I don’t cut it. (Gladly, Au Train is more liberally minded than Holland in such things.) As a result, the area around the cabin is filled with flying insects.
The lepidoptera (scaly winged) are my favorite. Monarchs are beautiful and graceful as they flit from milkweed to milkweed. I saw one burst from its chrysalis, stretch its wings to dry them, and then make a wobbly flight to a nearby milkweed plant managing to land on target. Amazing!
Even more amazing are the giant dragonflies. They can fly forwards, backwards, upside down, hover, or speed at 30 mi/hour – all without making a sound. They look ferocious, but are friendly and winsome. During one kayak trip down the river, fourteen of them alighted on the front of my kayak ostensibly to get a free ride, surveying the area for meals without having to expend energy. A couple years ago I found one in the river – its wings caught on the surface of the water. I gently lifted it out with my paddle and laid it inside the kayak. It stayed there for several minutes, calm and resting, as its wings dried. Then it revved to life and gratefully flew away. Now I imagine each of these visitors as being its progeny – all coming to say “Hi” and “Thanks.” One even circled around inside the kayak – obviously to rid it of any biting pests.
It’s easy to love monarchs and dragonflies.
But, while splitting logs in the backyard, I tossed a chunk of wood behind me and instantly felt a sharp pain in the tender area behind my knee. I scurried away and noticed from a distance that small dark hornets were entering and exiting an old rodent hole. My leg ached for a day and then itched for a day before I could forget about it. Not pleasant.
But those ground hornets were not nearly as ominous looking as the large ground wasps which made a home at the water’s edge of my kayak landing. Instead of buzzing off in a hurry as did the hornets, these monsters fly slowly and treacherously – with obvious confidence that other animals will give them clearance. Their abdomens hang low - filled with venom.
Some cabin guests bought me a spray can of Black Flag which had a warming that it was extremely toxic to fish and other aquatic life. So I checked online and discovered that dish soap in water is also effectively lethal since the soap allows the water to soak through their exoskeleton. Seemed that quickly covering the holes with sand and then pouring soapy water through it should do the job.
It seemed wise to be proactive. Why wait to get stung again. So I dressed in fully battle gear – two layers of pants, two shirts, hat and mosquito net carefully tucked into the collar of my shirt. I waited until dusk as per the instructions and advanced towards the hornet hole weapons in hand. But I stopped.
I started thinking: These hymenoptera (social insects) have been buzzing around the yard for weeks without bothering me. I got stung only when I unknowingly tossed a log on their home. Otherwise, they seem quite content to go about their business leaving me alone.
I used to be afraid of bees, but these past weeks I had spent hours picking wild raspberries with the buzz of bees all around. I have learned over the years that we are friends – even partners – and they have no reason to sting me.
Perhaps these small jetting hornets and evil looking hovering wasps are the same. Just perhaps all they want is to live their lives as do I. Perhaps I look as big of a threat to them as they do to me. But perhaps they have more sense. They are doing just fine – thank you – leaving me alone. Why do I feel compelled to exterminate them?
Perhaps, instead, the real danger is inside of me – a terror which wants to destroy things that look scary – that I have been conditioned to fear. Just perhaps, instead of overcoming my neighbors, the wasps and hornets, I need to overcome my fear. Perhaps these neighbors are decent folk after all. Worth considering.
