The female Bug Night-er was in a quandary about her plans for the evening. She was walking toward St. Paul’s School and weighing her options and considered taking off her usual Wednesday night identification duties. It was warm and the evening breeze brought soft and sweet air that was more like April than February. It was better than the heavy scent of denatured alcohol made airborne by the hot dissecting scope lights.
She was interrupted in her reverie of indecision by the rapid clicking of tarsi on the salty pavement. She turned to see who else was walking on this glorious evening.
“Whir is Bfg Neeth?” asked an insect of unusual size.
The Bug Night-er wondered if the poor diction was a result of the words coming from a bug with considerable mandibles or that the mouth parts held, strangely, a large metal spring. Somehow, she understood instinctively what the insect wanted, despite these two impediments to speech.
“You are on the right path to Bug Night,” the Bug Night-er offered, “I have been wondering if I should go in or stay out and walk more in the woods on this lovely evening.”
The insect regarded her with equanimity.
“What are you going to do?” the Bug Night-er asked.
The insect spit out the spring and with it, the acrid metallic taste. It never took its compound eyes off the Bug Night-er as it moved toward her with a perfect coordination of its six legs.
Maybe the smell of denatured alcohol in the laboratory wasn’t the worst thing in the world, she thought. It wasn’t her last thought but the smells of springs—both climatic and metallic—were.
Spring has not sprung and there is much work to do—and it can’t be done without you. We will see you on Wednesday, February 26, 2020 beginning at 6:00 PM sharp.