I wrote this little reflection whilst isolating with covid last November…

I have covid…I am self-isolating. In my room I lie on the bed and ponder. The bottom of two big windows are fully open and the sunshine is streaming through. It is a good day to ponder.

Some people hate flies (especially the big ‘blue bottle’ variety) and make grand military plans to swat them out of existence. BTW, not wishing to virtue signal here…I too hate…I hate wasps…even though I prefer them to Lambrettas (scooter joke). I am not a fly hating person, in fact, I like flies. Their incessant buzzing, amid the silence, reminds me of summers spent in the Kent countryside as a child. It was a pleasant release from the continuous roar of the traffic in the middle of London. The noise of flies reminds me of this so I find it soothing.

This is a tale of two flies. The first one entered the bottom of the window in a lazily fashion and proceeded to fly to the top of the window which was closed. In fact he seemed to be trapped between the two overlapping panes of glass. He would buzz around lazily looking for a way out and then would rest for a few minutes. He is still here with me now. Do I open the top part of the window and try and shoo him out or is he happy just to hang out with me?

A second fly came into the room. He began furiously buzzing into every corner of the room and bathroom. Furiously and without pausing he buzzed and buzzed frantically in every conceivable direction. Into every corner of the room. After a few minutes he found ‘freedom’ and was out of the bottom half of the window in a flash. Presumably to go on frantically buzzing in another unknown location.

The big question is…which fly am I? And which example from my two ‘brother flies’ is going to help me get through this period of isolation?

So, is there a moral to the tale of two flies? Is it that…?

Ben The Hermit

Friday 18^th November 2022

P.S. The first fly got out eventually!