The Fly

The Fly

It's getting colder now and I feel it on my hands as I clean windows in the unsettled British weather. Sometimes I wear gloves but they can get wet to the point where I take them off again and just get warm by hard work.

I clean windows for a living and have been doing so for over 28 years. It is often a solitary occupation but I listen to the radio as I work my way through the days. No two days are the same though so in many ways I like it like that. There are many interesting things that occur on my rounds. Conversations with customers, conversations with myself and arguments with the radio programme.

Often times, I try to avoid killing the numerous spiders that colonize my windows. Sometimes they seem to appear out of nowhere and I cannot avoid the odd casualty. I will often see many other types of creatures such as butterflies snails and birds. Once, a butterfly landed on my hand and I marveled at its sheer beauty.

Today, I see a fly crawling slowly on the sill of the window I am cleaning. I have seen this before. Normally they are frantic insects; lively and irritating. This fly I know is cold and in the wrong season. It is November and I can see that it will not last long. It begins to climb the window frame but because it is weak, soon falls back onto its wings and becomes adhered to the sill. I watch it struggle for a while and feel sorry for it.

Often times I have interfered with nature, trying to save insects and creatures but many times it backfires and makes the situation worse than before. Insects tend to be very delicate and fragile and it is difficult to pick them up without crushing them. How do you dry out a submerged spider, especially if the water contains the deadly window cleaning soap.

I decide to intervene and try to save the fly. I stop work and gently use a dry cloth to scoop the helpless insect up and off the wet sill. This is a successful maneuver. I am pleased with this and soon the fly flips over back onto its legs. I know how cold it must be so I cup my hands around it and gently begin to blow my warm breath onto it. The fly makes no attempt to fly away. I keep breathing gently warming it. I sense that it somehow knows what I am doing as I spend several moments breathing life back into the tiny miracle. Soon, the fly becomes more active and begins to groom itself and seems to turn to look at me. I look back feeling like some sort of giant but the fly does not seem to have any fear of me.

Soon the fly crawls onto my finger and further absorbs warmth from my skin. More lively still, the fly begins to crawl across my hand, pauses momentarily before making for the dark welcoming recess of my sleeve. I pull my sleeve tight so it cannot make the deadly sojourn up my sleeve. I say to it in a soft voice "you can't go up there". It seems to understand and instead crawls up my sleeve level with my elbow. I say to my new found friend "I have to do some more work" and begin to clean another window. All the time I am careful not to catch the insect in the folds of my overalls.

It is the last house and I am done with cleaning windows for the day. My new companion has been on my sleeve for several minuets now and begins to climb higher still. As I walk back to my car, the fly is on my shoulder like some sort of miniature parrot. We are now best friends as put all the equipment away. Once done, I open the door to my car, I look down at my shoulder to see if my pal is still there but alas he is gone. I make sure that he has not climbed down my back only to be crushed when I sit down but I sense that he is gone. Even though it sounds absurd, I feel a small sense of loss as I shut the door of the car knowing that he will not be alive tomorrow.

The next day I am working in another area. A small fly approaches me and momentarily lands on my sleeve.  It does not seem afraid and stays for a while before flying gently into the heavens.