When it rains here, crickets seek shelter in your house.
How do I know?
I know this because crickets are everywhere in the house. E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. And it just rained very, very heavily here, as you’ve probably read in the newspapers.
Last year, when it rained like this, we were inundated with earwigs. But clearly the insect world has a lottery system or organized yearly changeups, because this year, it was crickets. Black/brown field crickets. I looked it up; that’s what they are called.
CRICKET RELOCATION PROGRAM.
I cannot kill anything. I put all interior bugs, exterior. Stashed around the house I have see-through containers paired wtih stiff, but thin cardboard. I use these as trapping devices. Once trapped, freedom awaits out of doors.
Today, I have had to do a house sweep (with my trapping devices) every few hours. Catching displaced crickets is very easy. They aren’t like flies. Crickets just hang out and let you catch them. It is as if they know they made a very wrong and probably lethal decision to come into the house – and are very surprised and thrilled to be put back.
This thought, about the cricket waiting to die while they ponder how they got into this predicament (inside the house) and how to get out – made me think.
Are crickets a lot like we are sometimes?
Don’t we sometimes feel totally trapped by our decisions?…Yet somehow, we always find a way out, or not… but mostly something happens to break clear a path. Sometimes it is after your darkest hour, right?
For example, all of these little crickets came in and were lost. Totally lost. Life was bleak. They had no way of getting back out of the situation. Most of them sought out other crickets in the same situation and then they banded together in little cricket consortiums to die together, or not.
These particular little crickets have NO IDEA that I’m standing there, waiting to help them out.
Now, I’m not saying I’m a CricketGod or anything… I’m just saying that it is no skin off of my back to save them. Yet, during this save, the cricket still has no idea how they got from their desolate relity – to safety. To them, it was a weird feeling of flying and then – poof – grass again!
PERHAPS MY VALLEY FEVER IS OVERWHELMING MY SENSES…but…
Perhaps my recent illness (I’m still sick) has corrupted my good brain. But perhaps my brain fog has allowed me to think a bit.
For example, maybe it is all a cycle of what’s bigger… Essential enzymes buried in the ground are not aware of us… the ants are not aware of us. The cricket lost in my house is not aware that they are in my house.
What about humans?
Who is aware of us that we are not yet aware? When I look up into the sky, I have a hint of what could be beyond my comprehension… and just maybe, that hint has been nudging me and helping me –
Just like the crickets inside my house.