I have a bat swarm outside my kitchen window. Which is unusual.
I take a nebulous, poorly illuminated picture with my phone in an attempt to illustrate the magnitude of the impressive concentration of bats per square inch but on reflection it feels like a blurry Blackberry throwback and hardly does the throng justice. (So I don’t post it) For some reason it reminds me of homemade pornography. Dark, grainy and relatively amateurish. (only this time no one falls off the bed, or has to stop recording to go find burn gel)
The male termites are making their nuptial flight from their burrows after the rain. Although they might be harvester ants. My working knowledge of arthropods is largely limited to crushing them under my boot. Suffice to say all the bats in my suburb are currently clustered in a densely packed transylvanian flavored dyson sphere around my house.
That there is a biological reason for this cheers me up. Otherwise I may have already made a dash for the crucifix* in my go-bag (and the garlic from in among the onions) and prepared myself mentally to fight off a pale Romanian Boyar with a penchant for O+.
*religious iconography is an important (but often neglected) addition to any go-bag. I’m just kidding, my go-bag is basically hollow points and chocolate bars.
To tell you the truth this is not how I imagined my transformative Batman experience going. Glaringly absent is Michael Caine in an English cut chasing me down with a dark green smoothie and dispensing paternal advice about how I’m pushing myself too hard (fighting crime or playing playstation or whatever)
If someone can just point me in the direction of the comment cards, I’d like to complain to the manager.