The Wasp and Me
Posted: Thursday, October 09, 2008
by Gregory Lewis
PopGnosis
The audio version of this article is available. Just press play.
I think I must be getting lonely. I have a new pet wasp in my bedroom; I call her Hudson, after W.H. Hudson, who wrote a 1905 essay titled Wasps, extolling them as one of the more intelligent insect genus. In the case of Hudson (my wasp) I think it belongs to genus polistes, species fuscatus pallipes , commonly called a yellow jacket or paper wasp. Hudson is probably a female, but I don't want to give the impression of being sexist, especially when I don't really know it well enough to check for the presence of an ovipositor-especially an ovipositor developed into a dangerous poniard. At night Hudson, a social insect prematurely hatched and longing for its misplaced hive, walks a circle a few times around her favorite file cabinet folder strewn on the floor next to my keyboard where I write. It seems that Hudson likes being near me. I had a thought that perhaps Hudson is an outcast, a creature of great reflection looking for intellectual opportunities that expand beyond those normally allowed within the wasp social framework. A creature not unlike myself. We are birds of a feather, Hudson and me.
In the morning, I opened a drowsy eye, and Hudson was right where she had lain when I turned the lights out. I didn't disturb her all at once, and went about my normal morning routine: coffee, invoking ritual of the pentagram, bathroom. I'd had enough of Hudson's lethargy, so I picked up her folder and carried her to the window, opened just a crack. There her wings began to stretch out in the slight turbulence of a March breeze.
I left for an interview in the morning, returning in the afternoon to find Hudson missing. I flipped over her favorite sleeping folder, checked under my blankets, looked on the floor. But, she was nowhere to be found. You may think this a tad "off", but tonight I miss my little paper wasp curling up next to me as I type away my stories of the week, her little head cocked in slight apprehension at my ponderous mass, wondering at every moment whether this would be when she might be swatted into oblivion. She gave me the benefit of the doubt, something few humans had ever given me. I think my relationship with Hudson heralded a new age of understanding between wasp and human, equal to the first connection between caveman, holding out a bone, reverently accepted by the wolf on the outskirts of a camp fire. The wasp can learn new country western tunes, and stay up late listening to bedtime stories, while the human can project anthropomorphic sentiments upon the wasp, making the writer's life just a little less lonely.
Last night, after being asleep for about one hour, I awoke. I can't say exactly if I woke first to a vague stimulus, and then felt the dull pain in my arm, or if it was the pain itself that woke me. I suspected the obvious, that I had been stung, but I still wasn't sure. Turning on the light, I noticed a tiny red dot at the locus of my pain. "Now I know I'm not imagining that," I thought. So, I got out of bed, looked in my blankets, and sure enough, there was Hudson, looking still and frightened. She did the face wiping motion with her forefeet, as if to say, "I'm sorry I stung you, but you're so goddamned big, and I just wanted to snuggle, but you started to crush me."
The weird thing about perception is how it can change like a flash in the pan. I lost that rapport with Hudson I had earlier. She looked alien to me, like, well, a bug. No longer did I possess that sense of connection that had earlier endeared her to me. I paced about, realizing I was at the crossroads of consciousness. I resisted the temptation to squash her like a bug, which she was, in fact. I decided that this just wasn't going to work, her and I. For as much as I respected Hudson, a paper wasp just couldn't sleep with a human. So, I carefully scooped her into a clean plastic container, and closed the lid on it. I knew she was thinking along the lines of horrible rejection. And, you know, I did acknowledge that the wound she inflicted on my arm was very light, very minor. A dab of Rhuli Gel, and it started to feel better already. Believe me, I have been attacked by her kin in a far more serious manner, many years ago, while mowing the lawn. I recognized that Hudson was merciful with me, and probably hoped for mercy herself. So, I stabbed little air holes in the lid, as I considered my verdict.
Lying in bed, I couldn't sleep. I had a sudden pang of guilt. I got up and opened the lid of Hudson's container slightly, to let in more air. I did this maybe three times during the night, each time checking to make sure the little wasp had enough air. I decided that I would toss her into the backyard in the morning. She could be free, and tell the rest of her kind that the humans were not always their adversaries.
Morning came, and I checked in on Hudson. Seeing her lying on her back wasn't an encouraging sign, legs up in her air, the classic cartoon death posture. Maybe she was just faking it to make me feel bad for keeping her caged like a Guantanamo detainee. But, no, I swirled her around a couple of times in the plastic container, and she didn't stir or twitch. She had given up the ghost, and I don't know what heartache she felt in her last hours. I tossed her into the grass out back. "You know, if you had only waited, I was going to let you out anyway," I scolded. I must get past this now, and figure out what to do with the dozens of ladybugs that seem to be infiltrating my house.
This Article has been viewed 560 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
Top-level comments on this article: (5 total)You have to be somewhat nutty. To have a pet rock or something is nuts but a live wasp is far out. She was merciful to you though, sometimes those things can put a hurting on you.Please log in to respond to this comment.Hi Joel,
Firstly, I am a bleeding heart when it comes to any of God's creatures, no matter how small or invertebrate. While it is true I was at first alarmed to see the wasp in my room, I found this to be an opportunity to find out more about these maligned creatures. I don't pretend that the wasp and human shouldn't have clearly delineated habitats, and I have been stung pretty badly running over their ground nests with a lawn mower.
But, every time I was stung it was because I acted hostile to the wasp society. Honestly, I don't believe wasps are capable of random, senseless acts of violence, and I think I proved to myself that this particular wasp was doing nothing more than protecting itself when there was no way out of a bad situation. Would I repeat this experiment? I don't know, but I don't believe people are the only creatures capable of gentleness or empathy. We have boxed ourselves into a false sense of "better than thou."
The other thing to keep in mind is I lived in a very rural area at the time, in a very old house that had all kinds of varmints trying to find a warm spot for the winter, so you learn to not freak out when these things come out on a warm day.
Thanks for reading and commenting,
GregoryPlease log in to respond to this comment.Gregory, I didn't mean to sound critical or hateful, I was kidding aboout you being nutty. I can understand your feelings towards God's creatures. I do kill wasps or such if they get in our house but I never kill any varmint unless it is damaging my proprty, or endangering some of us. I too, was raised in an old farm house which would allow anything in that wanted in.I was stung by dozens of honey bees when I was a very small kid. I'd been eating ripe persimmons and passed close to their hives. They were simply after the persimmons smeared all over my face, but I didn't know that and so I fought them and lost the fight. I've also been stung by yellow jackets, hornets, wasps and even one big Bumble bee. Anyway, I try to avoid anything with a sting. Your article was interesting.Please log in to respond to this comment.Joel, Rest assured I took no offense at your characterization. Notice, I didn't argue with the part about being nutty, that's a given.
Also, I could kick myself for leaving out the most important detail of my story, which is that it was a humor piece. Ah, well, you win some you lose some! ;-)
keep on shin', my friend!
GregoryPlease log in to respond to this comment.Rocks and crystals actually have a consciousness. They exist in first density awareness and man is currently in third density. This is why healers program crystals with intent. This is not to say that rocks read the Guardian etc but there is more to them than you could imagine and, like plants, they are fully deserving of our respect.Please log in to respond to this comment.
Very entertaining. I did not read the bio until after I'd read the story. You are obviously a professional writer. I'll continue to be a fan.Please log in to respond to this comment.
GregoryWonderful story, well-written. Thank you. BlessingsPlease log in to respond to this comment.
This my favourite article of yours, I am so glad I found it. Brilliantly written, entertaining, empathic and really touching as it glides over the page. You are unique in managing to conceive/convey some level of compassion to this most maligned species. I am a pagan and respect all form of life equally but have a bit of a problem with wasps, yet they are as entitled to respect as any other life form. It's just the fear factor. Maybe, having read this, I will have sustained a cure.Please log in to respond to this comment.You can only imagine how pleased I am that someone has finally read and appreciated this story for its intended meaning. I wrote this story a year or two before joining SearchWarp. I had originally written it for a radio story reading contest. I received a personal letter from the saying their radio station staff enjoyed the story, but it wasn't quite what they were looking to read on the air. This story was written in a sort of "tall tales" style that is my favorite story telling style.
Thank you!
G.Please log in to respond to this comment.You are very welcome, this piece is a true treasure and I am glad I have revived it and this style is great. I do not agree that this is even anthropomorphic, it is simple the ability to perceive creation or spirit in another creature as the ancients used to. I do not believe humans are superior to any other being as all have equal worth. Modern man has simply lost the plot when they lost sense of this aspect.
Well done!Please log in to respond to this comment.
Projecting "anthropomorphic sentiments" is how to make these relationships work. You can't assume you are getting along well with beasts, you just have to project your powerful humanity outward and hope that union occurs. I got stung on the neck recently after gardening. Please forgive me for my undispersed aggression. Loneliness is probably your malady. I am seldom lonely, so I have forgotten how that feels. Loved your article.Please log in to respond to this comment.No doubt you are right Christofer. There is a special place in the annals of literature and religion for the alone, but rarely lonely hermit. In this mode one becomes sensitive to the natural world, and to regard the human form as the pinnacle of evolution seems folly. Some of this understanding has been lost to me as I re-acclimate to the milieu.Please log in to respond to this comment.
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.