Tuesday, December 7, 2010

insects and dignity.

I am glad I am not an insect. Their deaths always seem so terrible. They lack dignity. This poor winged creature is constantly going in circles with his head pressed against the floor. His wings beating a million times a second and the direction they are taking him is downward. It's like this one last mad scramble not to die. Looks sad.

The other day I walked past a giant beetle. And I mean giant. It was dead. Being devoured by hundreds of ants under the beating sun. A few minutes later I walked by another giant beetle. Same kind, only alive. Unfortunately he had gotten himself flipped on his back and couldn't turn back over. He was doing that same mad scramble right before death. His legs flailing to try and get enough umph to turn over. As I walked on I couldn't get the terrible images out of my head of him dying of hunger or the sun cooking his tiny body or other insects getting to him before he finally passed away. So I turned around. I walked back to the enormous beetle and took control of the situation. I picked up a stick, helped turn him over, and watched him walk away.

1 comments:

erica said...

c (the c i always cryptically blog about) sometimes gets completely absorbed in contemplating the individual lives and consciences of moths and ants and flies, their often seemingly pointless pursuits and failures. usually i find the whole thought process a little tedious, but sometimes it catches me how tragic it seems when we apply human standards. and i guess that's where it gets messy; what other standards are there?