cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On Life A few days ago I was in the bathroom and I noticed a drain fly on the shower curtain. Drain flies are, of course, not really flies at all but actually moths that are shaped somewhat like flies. One finds them hanging about drains, where they feed on minute bacterial buildup within the drain and probably thrive on the dependable moisture as well. Anyway, I saw this drain fly and thought about squishing it and washing it down the drain. And I almost reached out to do exactly that. But then I thought about it. Why? Why kill this little drain fly on my shower curtain? What danger does it pose? What inconvenience, even? Really, it asks so little. Merely to sit there above my bathtub and occasionally venture down into the drain and scrape off a nearly invisible quantity of scum from within the pipe. It is difficult to imagine how any creature could possibly ask less of me without disappearing altogether. I did not kill the fly and I will not do so in the future. Doubtless one of the resident spiders that I allow to remain unmolested in various corners will have it eventually. But that is predation, which is different. The spider has to make a living, too. Life is such fleeting, rare thing. At least the life of the drain fly is precious to the drain fly. We have no sort of guarantee as to what happens when either a human or a drain fly dies. It is possible, utterly horrible but possible, that death is an incontrovertible end. That the experience and the dim awareness of that drain fly would be lost forever. With such a possibility, with such an irreparable harm and loss at hand, why kill something that does one no injury when no measurable benefit can result? 10:52 a.m. - 2008-12-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||