As we were closing up the downstairs last night preparatory to hieing ourselves upstairs to bed, at a truly too-late hour, my eye was caught by a sudden movement, something small and black, at the base of the Japanese Buddhist shrine that sits near the entranceway between our family room and the kitchen.
Like most of my gender, I view the appearance of any kind of insect life inside our house with great repugnance. I had grabbed for my eyeglasses and identified the tiny creature as a sowbug, often seen outside, and the most inoffensive of nature's insects. They have a propensity to curl themselves into a self-protective ball when trying to evade detection. This one was leisurely making its way around the perimeter of the base of that piece of furniture.
It isn't all that far from where it was to the sliding glass doors in the breakfast room. I obtained a tissue and with little confidence but much determination attempted to pick it up gently to cause it no physical harm, but it evaded me time and again, now in a frantic bid to escape capture. I did, however, pick it up, and holding it loosely panicked as it too panicked and began to run all around the tissue.
Absurdly, I became agitated at the thought of it running onto my hand and up my arm, to disappear into the crevices of my clothing, a thought that came instantly to mind and caused me no little degree of alarm, so I burst out with a loud expletive, alerting my husband to something going awry, causing him anxiety as he excitedly asked what was wrong.
By this time I had reached the glass doors, slide one open and released the tiny creature to its natural environment, much relieved that the operation had been concluded with success. A large mammal that I represent, with not much common sense when it comes to interaction with the other, far more numerous creatures of this Earth; the tiny creature exerting its will to action in a bid to survive.
No comments:
Post a Comment