Crickets

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It was a mistake to mention the cricket I realised, as Grant began moving heavy furniture before 7 am. The creature had been serenading me for three nights and when I heard its perky chirp this morning, I called out hello, alerting the man to its presence.

The cricket had not been a pest, quieting accommodatingly once I turned the light off, however such creatures belong outdoors and Grant decided it was time to rescue the thing, which had got itself behind a roll-top desk.

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Heavy furniture does not get moved often and the shoving aside, when it does occur, reveals an accumulation that must be dealt with. Dust, dirt, cobwebs, cat hair, lost toys etc.

We had to be on our way to Albany within the hour, so this wasn’t something I particularly wished to tackle, but never mind.

The cricket had been returned outdoors and that was what mattered.

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For most of my life I treated the majority of insects as nuisances, which some certainly are to us humans. Quite a few are more than just an annoyance and I think you can be forgiven for waging war on creatures that cause illness or pain or destroy your crops.

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Few insects are as beautiful as butterflies. I have always adored them, yet some people suffer from lepitopteraphobia and can be traumatised by them.

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For me it was spiders. Something about those eight legs. Rationally, I knew nothing bad would happen to me if a spider crawled on me, but the very idea made my skin crawl.

In recent times, I’ve overcome my phobia to a large extent although I would still run a mile if I saw a tarantula or a wolf spider. But I’ve come as far as befriending small spiders.

Well, almost.

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Back then, I squashed small insects or washed them down the sink without a second thought.

Now, I even catch rather than kill flies, escorting them out.

It’s probably because since retirement, I’ve had much more time to think and I came to consider insects as what they are, another life form. Sometimes I try to imagine what it must be like to be a beetle or – a cricket, a slug, or an earthworm and so on. And I try very hard not to kill anything.

Often, when we try to rescue an insect, we damage them with our clumsy great fingers and when that happens I always apologise.

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Maybe, deep down, I believe we may come back as other species.

Anything is possible!

If I do have to come back though, I really hope it isn’t as a tick. I’m afraid they don’t often survive when I come across them. One of their kind put me in hospital for three days once and while I have long since forgiven the dastardly creature, it’s not an experience I care to repeat.

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