The Fly. But Why?

I spent the better part of a half hour this afternoon losing a battle to a stubborn fly. He managed to dash his way through the open deck doors when I was letting the dog out. I welcomed his presence at first, the low hum of his hover like the last echo of summer. I shut the deck doors to make sure he didn't go all Lord of the Flies on me, inviting any and all of his fly friends inside, and went about my business.

Slowly his wings picked up cadence and his forceful flapping became incessant and rather urgent. He went from flitting friend to persona non grata. No longer was he like the soothing sound of a refrigerator at night when the all else is quiet. He'd become like Rachmaninoff's "Flight of the Bumblebee." Don't get me wrong I heart all Rachmaninoff. This however, is not exactly what I had in mind for study music. (Although it sets the scene for quite a duel which is exactly what this was becoming.)

Deck doors wide and gaping, I ushered him out politely at first, like an air traffic controller, hands motioning his obvious and safe exit strategy. When he didn't follow my lead but rather sat himself down on the windowsill for a siesta, I had to take a different approach. Reaching for the first swatting weapon in sight, I picked up an envelope and was ready to have at it. Creeping towards the sill, I prepared to lower the boom and bam! I missed. He was off in flight (cue the Rachmaninoff) and I was up in arms, chasing him around the room like a crazy person.

I wish I could say the white envelope ended up with a very obvious black spot and that the afternoon consisted of a post-victory Ali-style float like a butterfly sting like a bee lap by yours truly. Sadly, or not so sadly I suppose, the fly finally stopped flying into windows and flew out of one. Hopefully he's safe somewhere out there in the wide blue yonder.

This whole thing reminds me of a poem by Ogden Nash which dad and I like to quote. It pretty much sums up my feelings about this afternoon:

God in his wisdom made the fly
And then forgot to tell us why.