Between Tides is my personal column, normally for paid subscribers only. This one is open to everyone. Think of it as an opinion column rather than one of my more rigorous science or policy pieces. It’s a chance for me to write down what I’m thinking or feeling.
We went to stay with my parents at the weekend. A couple of years ago they retired to a little village in the New Forest. My dad took Finlay out for a walk with the dog, Meg. She’s a golden retriever, and a very curious one at that.
They were all walking through the forest, having a lovely time, and then Meg managed to come across and disturb a wasps’ nest.
Meg got stung. My dad got stung. A couple of wasps got inside Finlay’s dungarees.
I’d bought them from a charity shop for a pound because they were so wildly jazzy and colourful, outrageously seventies. I thought, oh, these would be fun. The first time I put them on him, it turned out they were the worst possible thing he could be wearing. The wasps got in from the top, made their way down to his legs and then got stuck in there.
He got stung fourteen times overall, on his legs, his face and his head.
We ended up in A&E because we were worried. I got lost and didn’t know where the entrance was, so I dropped Orkida and Finlay off at the ambulance bay doors. A paramedic walked in with her, and I proceeded to drive around and try to find a parking space. The signs were never obvious.
It wasn’t a gentle arrival, where we register him and let him play with the toys. It was rushing in through the back doors, where the critical patients go in. It turned out he was fine, but it was traumatic for all of us.
It’s really important to me that he doesn’t develop a fear of wasps, insects, bees and flies because of this.
The wasps were defending their nest. Then they got caught in his trousers, and their response was to sting and sting and sting. Understanding how it happened doesn’t change the fact that he was a two-year-old getting stung fourteen times.
He’s always loved bees. He has a fascination with them. My fear is that he’s now going to associate yellow and black with danger. Which, of course, is what those colours can signal. You see warning colours in bees, wasps and hornets, and in poisonous frogs. Their colours tell other animals there’s a danger there.
I want to explain how it all works, the reasons that they sting. That we need to take care and respect other animals, and that they have ways of defending themselves. How do you explain that to a two-year-old?
I like to snuggle up on the sofa with him and occassionally I’ll put on a wildlife documentary, but now I’m worrying that perhaps he’ll one day see a shark and then have a fear of sharks. Or a spider crab. They look a bit scary. Or an orca attacking a seal. How do I explain what’s happening while he’s watching it?
It makes me think about our fears and the way we act with nature. I wonder how much fear affects our response when we hear about sharks dying. They’re not smiley, happy and friendly like puppies and kittens and dolphins. How much of that starts before we’ve had a chance to understand them?
I’m in a privileged position, in that this is the world I work in. I’m very excited to teach him about it. He’s still only two, though, and I wonder how much I can explain now, and how much will have to wait.
I don’t want him to be scared of things before I’ve had a chance to explain them properly.
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