A few days ago, in the middle of the night. My sister woke me up, unintentionally, with her ranting. Though on the hindsight, I cannot call it a rant because the softness of her voice only kept it as a mutter. My sister, a gente and unique soul, sleeps with her eyes open. Don’t be surprised, it’s not rare as one may think and it’s not fully open as one would assume. A half of her big googly eyes always sees everything. Maybe that’s why, She is always so vigilant during the night, even in her sleep. A fly or a mosquito or a cockroach can wake her up, very easily. That night, it was termites.
If it was the common one which destroys wood, she might have had something to worry about, but this one is different, it’s called ‘winged termites’. The name and the underlying physiology might have some similarities, but not the behavior of it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t lie to my readers, what she found wasn’t actual flying termites but just their wings. Before she got to them, someone already did, mother nature herself.
I don’t know what grudge she has against that species, the flying termites I’m mentioning only lives a day, maybe even less. They roam actively through the night and in the morning, leaving the evidence of their transparent perfect wings, they vanish. I somewhere read that winged termites lose their wings after finding a mate and coop under the soil to reproduce with them. Once again, the ones I’m talking about don’t have such convenient life, but a cruel fate and short one at that. They just simply die before the sun rise. Why am I fascinated with winged termites who lives less than a day? If you were to live only for one day, what would you do? Live it like crazy? or waste it, pouting? But as often we are mislead in this life, the real question is, does it even matter?
Wings lasted than life-
Spent counting perfect moments
Cruise through the seasons.
Inspired by Jilly’s 28 days of reason,
Fragile than wings – Jim Harrison.
Found a strange connection to the ‘perfect’ prompt over at dVerse, I’m sorry if the connection is too subtle (or even inexistence like ‘perfection’.)