The Mightiest

Dear Boo and Bubble,

Geez…it’s been almost two months since I last wrote to you! I’m not feeling too guilty because part of that time we’ve been together—especially with Boo on our big adventure in Alaska. However, I must admit some of it has to do with the lack of a very important ingredient when it comes to writing…inspiration.

Inspiration has many quirky characteristics, including dormancy which I find to be the most aggravating and the one I’ve wallowed around in for a while. Somehow, though, it always seems to make amends with the delightful aspect of serendipity…sending something totally unexpected my way that I’m compelled to share with you.

As Captain and I drove down the mountain this morning to have breakfast at Hickerman’s Café, serendipity struck in the form of a grasshopper clinging to the windshield of our car. With every turn in the road and acceleration of speed, he maneuvered his tiny legs into a position that enabled him to stay secure…very much like a surfer shifting back and forth on a board to counter the force of a wave. I was amazed at his agility and, when we came to a stoplight and he decided to continue on with us, became convinced that he was enjoying the ride.

It took me back to some fifty years ago when I was in college and Great Grandaddy Schaefer took me to see a movie entitled The Hellstrom Chronicle. Using the format of a documentary, the producers explored the theory that insects—in spite of their size—are actually the mightiest of all creatures to roam the earth. Even though humans can squish a bug at will, we are no competition when feats of strength are determined relatively speaking. One of the examples used to prove the premise was that of a grasshopper riding on the windshield of a car without loss of life or limb, the physical equivalent of a human holding onto the wing of a jetliner flying through the air. Not going to happen!

Having made the point that insects populated the earth billions of years before humans existed, the movie proffered the rather dire prediction that they would still be here billions of years after our mostly self-inflicted demise…that, in fact, we are powerless to change this dynamic regardless of our overwhelming physical prowess. To underscore this conclusion, the final scene showed a battalion of Army Ants making its way across a vast expanse, swarming over and killing everything (including cattle and horses) in its path, leaving nothing but carcasses in their wake. Having witnessed the scene, I can tell you the prospect was unsettling.

The fact of the matter is, we humans don’t respect or appreciate the importance of our tiny bug friends in the broader scheme of things. We see ourselves as the alpha and omega of creation…the top of the heap…the king of the hill…and assume that all of nature should bend to our will because, after all, we are…well…humans with the superiority of the brain. Which has me wondering sometimes, if that is true, why are we acting so stupidly when it comes to the environment? Do we truly believe that there was no party until we arrived? And that the survival of everything depends on our survival?

I think we need to humble ourselves a little bit and come to grips with the fact that, put down to size, we aren’t quite as powerful as we think we are. We’re just bullies.

Perhaps E.O. Wilson said it best when he posited, “If all mankind were to disappear, the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed ten thousand years ago. If insects, were to vanish, the environment would collapse into chaos.”