That could have been really nasty. Whatever it was it hit me smack in the forehead. Down a little, a bit left or right and that's an eye gone! I almost fell off my bike just a few metres from our gate.
I stop and dismount, rubbing the point of impact which stings with sweat. Here in a landscape of ripening rice stems with a savage sun ruling the afternoon stands a confused and slightly sun-burnt Brit in cycling shorts. A pathetic sight really.
I look back up the lane wondering what kind of missile had scored a direct hit on me. There, ten metres back, a large black bullet on the road grit. I lay the bike down and warily walk towards the suspicious object. Things resolve at two metres. It is upsidedown with legs slowly waving in the air. An inch and a half of coal-black beetle. Stunning. In two senses.
Empathy kicks in. "Hey there, you okay?" Its legs stop waving as I bend down. "Holy crap, that was some impact! I never saw you coming. Straight out of nowhere." Two long prongs arc forwards from its head and I recognise it as a Siamese rhinoceros beetle. An amoured beast built to fight, and sometimes made to fight for our entertainment.
We shared that collision and I dislike seeing it flounder. It wasn't built to lie on its back on a hard flat surface. It was built to trundle like a tank. I reach towards it. "Come on, I'll give you a hand."
As soon as my finger touches a leg I am gripped. "Ah, ah, ah, gently, gently!" It has strength in those grappling-hook feet and spiky legs that dig in enough for me to want to drop it. But it is gripping me so I can't. With all legs attached I lift it up.
"Wow, you are fantastic." It starts to explore my hand, each step pricking my skin a little too much. I decide to take it off but as soon I grip its body the discomfort turns to pain as he holds on. I let go. "Okay, okay, take your time."
I roll my hand to keep it angled for the best view while it continually tries to climb higher but is thwarted by my wish to watch it some more.
"You know, you're not the first. Must be, what, 20 maybe 30 years ago." I gaze far off at the thought of all that time gone but the beetle jabs my attention back. "Ah-ah-ah. So, I left the cave at dusk. Jumped on my motorbike to head home. Then they hit me. Never seen anything like it. Swarms upon swarms. Unimaginable. Flies, midges, beetles, moths, just everything. They were as thick as fog. My visor saved me that night." The beetle has stopped walking and its little antennae wave at me with interest.
"I had to go so slowly because I couldn't see through them. Bodies splattering, me trying to wipe them off. It was hell but hell how I loved it." I hold my hand flat and the beetle moves again, striding over my knuckles. It occurs to me that he is built for grasping his own kind and tussling, not for head-on collisions. He is no rhino and is probably developing a head-ache just like I am.
"That really was a crazy ride. What a battering I took! Must have been a billion bugs out that night." My mouth half-smiles at the memory of youth and plenty. "I laughed, I swore, I think I even sung."
The impact of this enormous rhinoceros beetle has knocked me back to an older time. And I have to say, a better time. One beast reminding me of many. Size for diversity.
"So, human, where are they now?"
I sit on the roadside gawping at the insect on my hand, shocked by the question. Or at least shocked to be asked a question at all. I look around at the land of our shared garden, taken and managed by us, but lived in by him. Having finally reached the tip of my fingers he waves his front legs in the air, lifts the hangar and unfurls his mighty wings.
"Come on, answer. Where have they all gone, human? WHERE HAVE THEY ALL GONE?"
Thank you to creativegarden challenge for the inspiration and prod to write this. Join in!
