As I quickly learn, some personality traits are common to all God’s creatures; large and small. Take this common housefly just landed on my hand, distracting me from my reading, as I sit in front of the dying embers of a morning campfire. The sun already hot enough on this July day to make me contemplate heading into the trailer.

I know what he’s after, as his labium repeatedly darts down to savor the combination of sweat and salt my pours produce, no doubt accentuated by the smoky flavor the burning logs have left on my skin; fond reminder of the bacon I had this morning with toast and eggs.

You’d think he’d be afraid of me, for despite my gigantic size, all attempts to wave the insect away come to no avail. He flies only briefly above, then lands again, eventually even allows me to touch him as he continues feasting.

Drawing hand and insect closer to my face, I marvel at its complexity. Six legs, each set supporting one portion of the fly…abdomen, thorax, head; itself something to be revered…compound eyes, feathered antennae, and of course, that continually active labium. Then I notice what truly sets fly and man apart…its wings. As intricately designed and constructed as any circuit board, though doubtful I will see the day a computer flies so easily.

In a younger life, without hesitation, I’d have swatted and brushed the fly away, but his persistence has earned my respect, not to mention that with my years I now know such a creature doesn’t have long to live. And as if telepathically, my new friend also knows neither do I in a relative way, acknowledges our union, he continues to show no fear, moves onto my open book, slowly walks down the page as if reading the words; I realize this is no ordinary fly.

My imagination/religious background come into play; easily accepted is the fact that the experience in addition to being a lesson, could also be a test. What if the fly is in fact my guardian angel? Or even better, God himself, come down to check me out? Recalling the story that God visits each of us in disguise at least once in our lifetime.

Not long after, the fly does what it does best, never to be seen again.

Later, in the afternoon, deer come out to feed in an adjacent meadow. With the experience and lesson of the insect still fresh in my mind, I grab a handful of apples and head out to greet them. It doesn’t take long for them to spot me. Despite my small size compared to theirs, they quickly dart away. No matter, I leave the fruit on the ground, where only moments before they stood in the distance, knowing tomorrow they will return, and me also with a fresh handful of apples.




© 2003
Revised © 2019
Photos © 2003 by author

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08/06/2016

Posted on 08/06/2016
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti