Little Creatures

I must preface this by saying that the following post will probably come off as a bit self-aggrandizing. You know, because none of my other posts are ever written that way. I'm not trying to say I have a supernatural connection to little creatures or anything, but their lives are very important to me. To be unconscious and uncaring about squashing bugs is something for children (and even then, their parents should teach them otherwise), and in my opinion, should be something that stays with children.

On the bus this morning was a very frustrated little spider. At first glance, I thought the little critter in my arm hair was an ant, but on closer inspection, it was a very tiny spider. It was obviously pissed, awkwardly crawling around in my difficult-to-navigate forest of hair, trying to wrench itself free from the uneven landscape. I started laughing to myself and watched the spider climb and descend, climb and descend. The bus was entering the station and I realized that although I was amused, the spider was not and I felt a responsibility to help this little being onto a more hospitable surface. I placed my thumb and index finger in front of the spider, blocking the forest and ushering it onto the hairless underpart of my forearm. Once the spider reached the clearing, it stopped for a moment, and then skittered across the vast expanse. Now exiting the bus, I coaxed it onto my hand, where the spider immediately dropped, suspended by an invisible thread of webbing. Taking the opportunity, I held the dangling spider close to a tree and it latched on, detached from its anchor, and hurried off.

I moved on to the next bus and waited for its eventual departure. Alone with my thoughts, I took myself over the previous five minutes with the spider. I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of responsibility and joy in the closeness I had to the tiny critter. I mean, this spider was probably a baby. Or at least, a very very small breed of spider. I was full-on anthropomorphizing the whole situation, thinking about how the spider was "frustrated" and how it just "wanted" to get "home". This thought process brought a smile to my face. Why not fantasize about the spider's emotional state? Hey, if I were a spider in the same situation, I would be completely irritated.

I remembered being on a walk earlier this summer with some friends in the gorgeous Deer Creek wilderness. We were walking along, and on the ground I saw a beetle. It was larger than normal, black, and had iridescent purple, green and blue wings. I crouched down and marveled at its beauty. This little bug, walking around and doing its little buggy thing. Right then, a pink polished foot smashed the ground in front of me. I was horrified. The foot removed and there lay the beetle, instantly crushed by someone I knew. My temper flared. I had to contain the rage that I wanted to display and said, "Why did you DO that?!" My friend shrugged and said, "It was a bug. I tell my kids [in the classroom] that whenever they see a bug to do the same thing." I turned away disgusted. I was incensed. I couldn't even talk to that person for the remainder of the walk.

After helping the spider to a more amenable locale, I thought of my friend. I thought of how easy it would have been to smash that little spider and wipe my hand, disgusted at the mess spiders make when crushed. I thought of the callous attitude one must have towards other creatures, be they big or small, and how if they don't "fit" into your existence, you just erase them. Bugs are not gross. Sorry to break it to you, but without those "bugs", our world would be vastly, enormously different. Just ask a biologist friend or perhaps read a book! Unless you can't read. But then how have you made it this far into my blog post? Weeeiiiird.

Personal reflection has brought me to a point of no return concerning critters and nature in general. To stomp on anything we please, to squash beings that have no mal intent or avarice towards us seems to me to be a reflection on one's character. It is one thing to kill a creature because it is truly harmful if left unchecked (e.g. black widow nest in one's house), but it is quite another to willfully destroy a life because you "just don't like bugs". Part of me wishes the same were true for us. You know, like in the case of my friend. I could smash one of her extremities and just say that I "just don't like pink nail polish".