Last month (February) Ditto my cat wanted to go out. February in New England is rather cold so I opened the door quickly -and just as quickly a very large hornet came right into the house.

I was stunned by this occurrence and as Ditto slipped out into the cold I watched as the hornet head right for the kitchen. This was a rather peculiar thing to happen in the middle of winter and it made me wonder what had brought this hornet to this break in its normal life cycle.

I grabbed a newspaper and head for the kitchen. But I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. There were two thoughts inside me. The first was for the welfare of the hornet. It was lost and confused and did I have cause enough to kill it? This is my house but what does that really mean? Do I actually own this house or am I just sharing some space here with this hornet? Just because I have a paper that says this space is mine doesn't really mean anything. Maybe there was a message here, or something to be learned.

The other thought I had was fear of the sting. A hornet sting can be quite painful. It is considered a venom and it is nothing like the sting of a honey bee.

There is a duality in the hornet. Its greatest gift is also its curse. Quite a dilemma for him. It has the potential of getting help (from me) yet its gift was an obstacle to that help.

It head for the window and managed to buzz up and down between the glass and the mini blinds. Big hornet, very loud buzzing -amplified by the glass.

I put the newspaper down and returned to work; looking over my shoulder every few minutes. Maybe I could live in harmony with it.

Later that day I again opened the door and with a newspaper tried to coax it toward freedom. It would have none of it. I didn't try very hard though, for fear of a sting. It kept returning to the sunlight shining through the kitchen window.

THAT NIGHT

Before going to bed I checked on the hornet. It was tired too, and it just sat on the frame of the window and walked back and forth trying to puzzle out a solution to its dilemma.

I had a dream that I watched it as it beat itself against the glass of the kitchen window. In my dream it was significantly larger than it was in real life.

In the morning I cautiously entered the kitchen - looking and listening - no sign of the hornet so I carefully made a pot of coffee and after it was done I poured myself a cup and walked into the living room.

And there he was, in the biggest space, lying dead on the hardwood floor, right in the middle of the room. His dark body stood out in contrast to the light color of the wood. It felt like he placed himself there on purpose. I just stared at him. It felt like an accusation "Look at me, you could have helped but you didn't. Now I am no more."

All I could think about was that if you are given a gift, you have to accept it, and you have to accept the burden that comes with it. The realization felt like the sting of a hornet.