The Tiniest Rescues and the Building of Compassion

I have a habit of not only rescuing the insects and arachnids I encounter but also, if there's a camera handy, photographing them obsessively (one of many reasons that getting a good camera and learning how to use it is high on my to-do-when-I-have-money list), and this post and the images in it stem from that.

I've been fascinated by these tiniest of animals for years, and transporting them outside or out of harm's way brings me a form of peace, albeit passing, that I don't quite know how to explain. There's something about those quiet moments of gently gathering the little one up, of peering at him and the wondrous details of his delicate body, of carefully moving him to safety, and of watching him go on his way that oh-so-briefly stops the world around me.

Of course, we can't live without causing any harm. Just being in this world means that we're going to disrupt and cause death to the tiniest animals on a regular basis as we go about our day-to-day lives, even when we don't mean to and try not to. But in those moments when we have a choice, we can choose to let them go, to let them live another day. And the times I get to make that choice soothe my soul a bit and momentarily bring me peace even on the otherwise most difficult days.

And sometimes I think that if we could get people to change the way they look at bugs, this world overall would be a gentler, more compassionate place for all animals. After all, if we were to teach our children to be respectful and appreciative of even the smallest, least-like-them animals -- the animals it would be easiest (and most accepted-by-society) for them to hurt and kill -- wouldn't that lay some groundwork? If we taught them to observe bugs instead of kill them, to learn about them rather than fear them, wouldn't that make it even more likely that they would pause and consider how they view and treat larger, more-like-them animals too? I can't say for certain, but I'd like to think so.

I'm writing about this today after just having retrieved some of my photos from a friend's borrowed camera. A little over a week ago, I took a green pepper from the fridge to use for dinner, a day or two after my mom had pulled it from my parents' garden and sent it home with me. I didn't notice the hole in it before I started cutting off the top over the sink, and when some goop sprayed out at me during the cutting, I had a gross-out moment and quickly started rinsing out the vegetable with the sprayer. Several seconds passed before I looked down and saw a caterpillar in the drain. Luckily, I had to endure only two or three seconds of guilt and half-panic, thinking I'd killed him, before he started wiggling. So Mr. Paper Towel and I helped him out of danger and ferried him outdoors. The wet, gloomy, overcast early evening wasn't the ideal setting for documenting his release, but hey, at least I had a better-than-mine camera on hand this time. And watching him scoot off into a sea of green leaves made my day. I don't expect seeing the photos of this to make your day, but I hope it at least makes you smile. Happy Friday: