I was looking at pictures of adorable endangered animals in Audubon and weeping. They are such cute little things. Especially as seen through the lens of a sensitive photographer.
I wept until I came to the fly known as the DELHI SANDS FLOWER-LOVING FLY.
Such an attractive fly the little guy was, lying there on his side, politely encouraged towards a certain drowsiness, a federally permited fly handler standing by making sure the little guy (gal?) was safe. After all, there are so few of these flies left. Under 1,000. And where do they live? They live in Southern California. My back yard.
I don't like flies.
My weeping ceased. Why me? I asked the universe. Is this a test? To see just how committed I am to the ideal of saving each and every endangered species in the world? If I can support the adorable Choctawhatchee Beach Mouse or the Pallis Sturgeon or the Guam Rail, why have I skidded to a halt over the Delhi Sands Flower-loving Fly.
The fly (any kind of fly) isn't even supposed to exist in Southern California. There are some, but not the nuisance they are elsewhere. To demonstrate how little a nuisance flies are, my fly swatter is very old, and in fact I don't even know where it is. Or even if I actually have one.
But now I find there IS a bona-fide fly here in Southern California who is making waves, and I don't like it. Even if there are only 1,000 of them left. Even if the whole Delhi Sands eco-systems will disappear if they do. Even if the area referred to is an hour away.
I don't like myself for this. I need to reframe the scenario. I need to like the fly. I need to feel its pain. I need to feel love for all God's creatures. Right now.
I look at the photo of the drugged fly (bearing in mind the fly handler). I note its large green jowls. I see its legs are spindly and unshaven. I look for its eyes. I don't see any eyes, unless, god forbid, those green jowls are the eyes. But the eyes are closed, right, because the fly is unconscious. So...the green could be the creature's eyelids?
Emerald green eyelids. I used to wear an emerald green eye shadow...I think it was in the eighties--
I'm looking at a fly who wears make-up.
I feel less animosity towards the fly. It's endangered, for god sake. If we don't do something, this little gal may soon be gone, never to be seen again--
And such a beautiful shade of green would be darkened forever.
Tears threaten--
I reach for the Kleenex.
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