THE SPEIGHTS OF LIFE 103

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The Speights of Life # 103

Refuge

Where do all the insects go when a torrential rain occurs?

I’m sitting on the stairs of my front porch, cooling down from a muggy summer walk. Hurricane Hannah, now downgraded to a tropical storm, is on her way. The cloud cover is ominous. Rain, and lots of it, is predicted for hours on end.

The insects surely must know this. But how? We have the media to inform our sorry selves. They have something…instinct? Feelers?

I look down. In and around the foot mat at the base of the first stair scurry some of the smallest of creatures. A spider. An ant. Something unidentifiable, with many legs, crosses the mat’s terrain like a hiker in Grand Canyon. Up and down, in and out of every crevice. It does this with fluidity that I only wish the gym would give me.

Mat at the foot of our stairs

So, where do the bugs go when five inches of water falls from the sky? A single drop must ruin their whole day! Do they take refuge under a leaf or a tree? Under a rock…surely a tragic choice? Deep in the soil? In my house? Will they emerge victorious and bask in tomorrow’s sunshine? I’d like to make myself tiny and follow one of these creepy-crawlies to satisfy my curiosity as to where they end up during a deluge.

I’d need assurance that I would return to living as large as I do. Because I’m certain if I were one-half inches in length and in constant retreat from shoe soles and things that go bump and clomp at any hour of the day or night, my life expectancy would be…well, I’d be dead and gone by now.

I know where I go when the tempests are breaking over me. Storms like the threat of illness and getting older, lack of energy, crises of major or minor proportion. Rather than climb under some rock, I go to family and friends or even inside my four cozy walls or into my mind/heart/spirit, or, since I’m lucky enough to have a partner, I can go into his loving arms. I’ll climb over and under every obstacle to get to these places of refuge, before the gale winds come, or as the rains attempt to drown me. And I usually find the kind of umbrella protection I’m seeking.

But for now, I’m sitting on the steps, feeling the first drops and wondering where those tiny buggers will go to stay out of harm’s way.

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