Two Wasps Walk into a Bar...

 

 

Photo by Nicolas DC on Unsplash

There’s a well-known phrase: “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” When it comes to the wasp, I’d rather it be as far away as physically possible—but sadly, no. My cunning enemy found me in an unexpected location: the beautiful country of Slovakia. And at a time I’d least expect—at breakfast.

Having breakfast outside, I noticed the wasp buzzing around but didn’t pay much attention. It was quite warm, so I’d taken my shirt off and was sitting there in just my T-shirt. When I went to put my shirt back on, the little blighter had slipped in, stinging me on my upper arm by surprise.

Most people would brush it off.

A moment of shock, irritation, maybe even anger, but after the pain eases, the moment passes.

Not for me.

Antihistamines don’t even touch it. The redness slowly crept up my arm which, if not dealt with, would lead to swelling, my arm getting tighter and tighter, causing blisters until…

But where’s the bar? Where’s the joke? Where’s the punchline, you might be asking?

And perhaps you’re also wondering what this is really about. Where’s the meat of the story?

“Write up to 1,000 words about the natural world.” That was my most recent Alpha challenge.

Initially my mind went, What? I could write about anything; the brief felt far too broad. But then something made me think: why not write about my encounters with my feared natural enemy—the wasp—and not only that, but also about another aspect of the natural world: Cellulitis.

So I did, and what a fascinating world it unveiled once I began exploring more about the fascinating world of the wasp.

For starters, most of them aren’t even yellow and black—that’s just the yellow jacket, as our US friends call it. Most wasps are much smaller, almost ant-sized. They also include the world’s smallest insect, a species of fairy wasp measuring just 0.14 mm long. There are over 9,000 species, from the huge and terrifying hornet, up to six centimetres long and aggressive, to the dazzlingly colourful cuckoo wasp.

And how about this for a shocker—bees are simply wasps that forgot how to hunt!

According to Seirian Sumner in Endless Forms: Why We Should Love Wasps, the original bee was a solitary wasp that turned vegetarian. Who would have thought that?

And here’s a delicious thought for all us writers: the ink used to write William Shakespeare’s plays was created by a wasp—the gall wasp.

So how do I bring faith into this, especially as I have every reason to detest and fear one of the 9,000 species for the pain and discomfort they cause me? Well, there’s the obvious answer: the fact that they harm and terrorise wasn’t part of God’s original plan, so I can’t blame Him. But even deeper than that, I really do respect and admire them now. They truly are a fascinating part of creation.

I nearly got distracted and forgot to mention the bar. Yes, two wasps did enter a pub. At Fox House in the beautiful Peak District, there I was, happily having my meal when, for whatever reason, two wasps came along to spoil the party. Two stings on my ankle, leading to cellulitis, blisters, and antibiotics.

So how do I end this piece? Turn your pain into prose, turn your fear into fascination—or maybe next time you have a flying insect near you, as long as you don’t suffer from Spheksophobia, you might take a moment to think that there’s more to the creature than meets the eye. We really do live in a wonderful world.

I’d love to hear if you’ve ever had a painful experience that turned out to be a seed for your writing, or where you also learned to respect your enemy. Let me know in the comments or on the Facebook page.

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Martin is a writer, baker, photographer and storyteller. He's been published in the ACW Christmas anthology and Lent devotional.