A Time to Kill

Another aspect of life in NC that I am still getting used to is the eternal struggle between man and nature. Thunderstorms are just one part of that. Another part - the one I will write about today - is my effort in killing things.

I was taken aback the other day by the fact that I keep starting my sentences to my wife with, "I am going out to kill ..." Sometimes the rest of that sentence is fairly benign, like, "weeds" or "grass growing in the mulch beds." On a few occasions, however, I've ended the sentence with "that nest of wasps," "the mouse in the fireplace," "the black window in the access pipe," or "the snake near the shed." And my wife knows what is implied when I come in from the yard and say, "I need my big shovel."

Living in the concrete jungle of NYC, I had been so isolated from nature that I assumed man's struggle for survival in the elements was over. What remained were trivial things like avoiding pigeon poop or whacking a silverfish with a shoe. Now, living out here in the country (or at least the outskirts of the burbs) I realize that the struggle continues.

I am getting over my fears of wild creatures and my reluctance to kill living things. It's not that I no longer respect God's creation - far from it! I just have a better perspective on my place within that creation and am better able to justify my need to survive and protect my family.