So hornets sting. And their stings can send those who are allergic to the venom to the hospital. So when the hornet invades the walls of a domicile of someone whose life is potentially threatened by their sting- it is war.
It never feels good to take a life.
I remember watching a movie about the Dalai Lama. As a child he was concerned about the lives of earthworms being disrupted as they were building a new temple to honor him. They had to find a way to save the earth worms because his holiness decreed it even though he was just a boy. So they sifted the soil to save the earthworms.
I became an instant Dalai Lama fan.
I try to capture these yellow jackets and free them hoping their life is meaningful. I admit I also hope I'm improving my karma when I do it.
But then I catch one off-guard and it catches me off-guard and next thing I know I'm staring at emergency room curtains pumped full of antihistamines until I dose off for a couple hours. It is all very inconvenient.
This year, as in years past, a nest seems to have formed in the walls of my house. And though the wasps primarily enter and exit through an outside crevice in the siding, one or two find another way to get out and end up inside the house.
This is a problem.
I put on my self-made generals helmet on and start drawing up maps to make my counter offensive, which consists of buying those cans of poisonous spray that supposedly reaches 20-30 feet away but at best its like 12. I then sheepishly pray I can hit the nest enough that they don't start flying erratically at me. $30 and me freaking out if I think one landed on me later - maybe it worked.
Truly I hate to kill them.
They are doing what they came to this life to do, it is not their fault I could die because they are protecting the life they know.
But that is the horrors of war summed up- it is us or them!
Before today I'd estimate 75 hornets have been killed individually inside the house either by electrical shock from a battery powered zapper or by crushing then against the window where they sough freedom.
Irony.
To kill a bee, even one that could kill me, just bothers me.
As I grow older I am discovering I'm not cut out for the hash realities of Darwinism. And yet here I am posting this photograph of this poor soul after attempting genocide.
It never feels good to take a life.
I remember watching a movie about the Dalai Lama. As a child he was concerned about the lives of earthworms being disrupted as they were building a new temple to honor him. They had to find a way to save the earth worms because his holiness decreed it even though he was just a boy. So they sifted the soil to save the earthworms.
I became an instant Dalai Lama fan.
I try to capture these yellow jackets and free them hoping their life is meaningful. I admit I also hope I'm improving my karma when I do it.
But then I catch one off-guard and it catches me off-guard and next thing I know I'm staring at emergency room curtains pumped full of antihistamines until I dose off for a couple hours. It is all very inconvenient.
This year, as in years past, a nest seems to have formed in the walls of my house. And though the wasps primarily enter and exit through an outside crevice in the siding, one or two find another way to get out and end up inside the house.
This is a problem.
I put on my self-made generals helmet on and start drawing up maps to make my counter offensive, which consists of buying those cans of poisonous spray that supposedly reaches 20-30 feet away but at best its like 12. I then sheepishly pray I can hit the nest enough that they don't start flying erratically at me. $30 and me freaking out if I think one landed on me later - maybe it worked.
Truly I hate to kill them.
They are doing what they came to this life to do, it is not their fault I could die because they are protecting the life they know.
But that is the horrors of war summed up- it is us or them!
Before today I'd estimate 75 hornets have been killed individually inside the house either by electrical shock from a battery powered zapper or by crushing then against the window where they sough freedom.
Irony.
To kill a bee, even one that could kill me, just bothers me.
As I grow older I am discovering I'm not cut out for the hash realities of Darwinism. And yet here I am posting this photograph of this poor soul after attempting genocide.
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