Let me bore you with some ruins. The Great Pyramid of Giza is the only surviving structure of the original 7 Wonders of the World, but it shares a common element with the lost 6. Then a new 7 Wonders list was made, including Petra, Machu Picchu, Great Wall of China, etc. (Angkor Wat was deemed the 8th wonder). All fascinating sites, some of which fueled my enchantment. Later interest soured somewhat though; I began to feel they should be renamed The 7 Wonders Forced Labor Built. This is what the combined 14 wonders shared.

Even if every civilization wasn’t built on chattel slavery, they all used some form of forced labor. Is it any wonder order built on the sweat of unwilling people eventually reverts to chaos? The ultimate conclusion: the thing civilization excels at is entropy. Like Yeats said, “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.” (He wasn’t referring to this exactly, but still.) 

These days I’m more attracted to the 7 Natural Wonders of the World anyway. Although I continue to admire those living tree root/vine bridges the peoples of India & Indonesia construct. They’re amazing. This brings up the issue of certain persons who seek out some naturally occurring wonders: spelunkers. I have a bone to pick with them.

Harken back to days of yore. On a warm summer night, windows agape, I awoke to a repetitive sound. Some unfamiliar nocturnal bird, or a smoke detector with a dying battery. There was an odd, almost mechanical quality to it. Intensely curious, I commenced to investigate. Once out the door, by the glow of streetlights I saw my serenaders. The erratic fluttering of creatures that hunt moths. Euderma maculatum, the Spotted Bat.

Nicknamed ‘Oreo cookie bat,’ they’re usually found in Central WA areas with high sheer cliffs. Perhaps tall buildings are a stand-in for those natural formations? Identified by this specific call– a metallic clicking chirp. The only other WA state bat whose calls aren’t in the ultrasonic range is the Large Brown Bat, & they’re more famously squeaky.

I may share some goth traits, heaven knows I have a macabre bent, but wasn’t a part of their tribe. However: “Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make!” I never imagined batsong would rouse me from slumber. I lived in the city, a place where mammalian wildlife was limited. The rarest sightings were the occasional raccoon or possum. Mostly they came in the form of rodents.

Long ago & far away, I resided in a house of witches. Not really, but it’s atmospheric. My coven of housemates threw a party, in which I met a guy intrigued by the large vivarium in my room. My snake Bean was months ago gone; tree frog Speck had recently passed. The spacious habitat stood vacant of animal life.

In the wee hours of a subsequent morn the guy knocked on my door. He bore a plastic food tub, “I brought you this, for the vivarium,” he said. I took the container, opened it, spat “fuck!” then promptly shut it again. He looked hurt. “I thought you’d like Bat.”*

*[I’m trying to wean myself from the usage of ‘it’ to denote any flora or fauna. Though imperfect, I feel this way is better.]

He was a decent guy, so I broke it down gently for him.

“I do love bats. Yet they’re a rabies vector. Also, I’m opposed to taking a creature out of the wild to keep in captivity. Lastly, Bat would starve. I have no way of sourcing the high volume of flying insects required for Bat’s survival.”

“What should I do with Bat?” He asked, still crestfallen I didn’t want his gift, but better-informed. 

The only wildlife rehab place I knew of at the time was the PAWS Wildlife Center in Snohomish. I doubted they were equipped to take in bats, or that he had transport to get there. Plus, Bat might not even be sick or injured. Bat looked OK in the split second I peeked. 

“Back to where you found Bat?” I suggested.

“In the house I work construction on? Bat was clinging to an unfinished wall.”

“Maybe take Bat to some trees near there?” I offered. I didn’t know. I’m no biologist. I’d never seen a solo bat before. Assumed they always roosted together en masse, which suggested he’d removed Bat from the colony’s proximity.

This incident made me wonder about the misfortune visited upon bats throughout time. When Homo sapiens emerged from caves, we inadvertently brought bats along for the ride. It has not been to their advantage. Our dwellings resemble smooth caves with 90 degree corners. Sadly bats are now a source of revenue for pest control services.

On Whidbey Island there was a retail business in an old house. I want to say restaurant, but there would’ve been health code violations. A small group of us exited a gallery across the way at dusk. A classic scene from a horror movie took place. Seemingly hundreds of small bats streamed from the attic of that house, artfully dodging us to hunt in the surrounding cloud of bugs. I raised my arms in a dramatic cruciform pose (possibly also seen in a movie) & reveled as they flowed around me. Those moments were awe-inspiring.

On a walk with Sydney in the local cemetery, she found something of interest on the far side of a giant Douglas fir. A high-pitched hissing issued forth, & I hurried round the tree to see what strange insect she had disturbed. I’d once heard cicadas, which can buzz so loud it drowns out other ambient noises, so ‘insect’ was what came to mind.

I reined her in from the startled creature sounding a warning. The bat gripped the bark no more than 2 ft off the ground, low enough for Sydney’s unwelcome nose. I felt sorry for the small being– so exposed there, but decided less ogling would be better. I hoped the wondrous mammal had flown away after resting. That was not a safe place for a bat to roost all day.

It’s likely spelunkers contributed to the spread of White-Nose Syndrome, causing the mass die-off of over 6 million bats. Those who went from cave to cave without sterilizing their gear in between could move the fungal disease around. You always hurt the ones you love.

The term ‘remote places’ should be a tip-off. ‘Fragile ecosystems’ being the takeaway. Ideally accessible solely to biologists, if at all. Whether there’s any corner of Earth left untrod by people is questionable, but that doesn’t spell allowing people to blunder hither & yon. 

I empathize with the bat colonies. If a succession of gawping strangers rappelled onto my lawn, I’d assume societal collapse has finally arrived. Therefore, civility is forfeit. “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!” I may be rabid.