I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with those venomous flying daggers known as wasps and hornets to last a lifetime, and I’m very relieved that I am not allergic to the devilish vermin or I might not be here to write about them now.
Aren’t you lucky?
I have been stung enough to develop a deep respect for the little scumbags. I do feel, for the most part, that if left alone they won’t bother you. I’ve been around their nests without suffering any ill effects. I’ve breezed by them without being attacked. I’ve even knocked down their hives without being swarmed upon.
My 4-year-old has an understandable fear of the buggers after being stung while poking his little fingers about their nest. Being a child he didn’t understand what was happening and merely stood in place screaming bloody murder. So my wife and I ran over and snatched him away. I wasn’t sure what had gotten him since it was getting dark – or maybe I had my sunglasses on – so I investigated, sticking my hand in the area. I was immediately hit by several painful hypodermic injections of what can only be described as molten lava.
My curiosity satisfied I ran to the house screaming like a banshee.
(What is a banshee, anyway? I’ll wait here while you look that up.)
I was actually relieved that it was only hornets, and not something more dangerous like a coral snake or Eastern Diamondback rattler or African Barking Spider.
I was also relieved to learn that my boy is not allergic to the beasties.
Alas, I have come to find that these carnivorous creatures only attack when you are not watching them. Like the rooster on my father’s farm that would immediately charge as soon as you turned your back, these sly devils wait until you are not paying attention.
Years ago, one of the little monsters actually had the audacity to fly into my shirt whilst I was not looking. In fact, I was riding my motorcycle – to the dentist no less – in heavy traffic. I couldn’t stop. The sucker stung me repeatedly as I flailed about trying to get it out of my shirt while riding with one hand. Motorists must have thought me mad.
Being the highly evolved creature I am I did not dare smash the bug against my flesh. Probably has something to do with my amygdala, that primitive part of the brain that shouts: “Don’t touch that thing it will sting you!” even while that thing is stinging the living crap out of you.
Alas, it managed to deliver a multitude of painful injections as I screeched (my tires, not me) to a halt (OK, it was me) on the sidewalk, narrowly missing the curb, a tree, and a pack of hippies protesting the unethical treatment of honeybees or something. I pulled my collar away and the unfettered bug simply flew out, without even giving me the satisfaction of squashing the life out of it.
“Far out,” said a hippie.
And once at the dentist office I discovered that Novocain in my mouth did nothing to relieve the pain in my chest.
Did you know that bees and hornets are able to detect infrared and other radiation that we cannot see? I am not sure of the science behind it all, but I do know once when I tried to photograph a bumblebee in flight that kept hovering about, staring at me, it moved every time my camera focused on him. Every time I squeezed the shutter the bee would move out of the way. And I do mean every time. So I put it on manual focus and got the shot.
I had forgotten this little-known truism while recently photographing a nest-full of wasps. At first they seemed okay with it. But as soon as my back was turned they attacked, mad as hornets, delivering a multitude of painful stings right through my shirt. It felt like I was being stuck with an ice pick. Made of molten lava.
Fortunately this time I was not on my way to the dentist but instead visiting a friend who offered me medicine (beer) and slapped some baking soda paste on my wounds.
So my advice is don’t turn your back on flying barbed insects and mad roosters. They are conniving creatures that do not wish to be photographed and will attack when you least expect it.
Banshee: n : (Irish folklore) a female spirit who wails to warn of impending death
Hey there, this is funny, it reminds of an incident with my husband and hornets. I must write it down immediately, am sure he will love being immortalized.
Reviewed by Jill Carpenter
12/6/2006
Albert, the answer is "YES!" we are lucky that you're still here! I might add another critter to the ones you never want to turn your back on. Geese. (yes, this is experience talking :o).
It's good to be aware at all times.
Good write,but you might want to be careful calling them names...you just never know when they might be listening.
Really witty piece. I laughed alot, especially the part where you are afraid to touch the wasp because it might sting you, while it is stinging the crap out of you. Hilarious.
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I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with those venomous flying daggers known as wasps and hornets to last a lifetime, and I’m very relieved that I am not allergic to the devilish vermin or I might not be here to write about them now.
