bat!
I came by my office this evening to use the computer (since my home computer is temporarily off-line). Just as I was wrapping things up to head out I suddenly found myself being dive-bombed by a bat. We have a bat who lives in our building despite our staff's occasional efforts to evict it. I've seen it on my floor before, but it never occurred to me that leaving my door open might mean inviting a visit. I don't get terribly freaked by bats, but having one circle above my head as I try to type is not my idea of fun, either. I have a very close friend who gets absolutely flipped out by bats--she gets so girly and useless that it's tempting to point and mock and laugh, but I try to keep my snickering to a minimum.
I thought of my friend as I crawled out my office door and stood watching the poor bat circle, first one way, then the other, somehow never finding the open doorway by which it entered. Eventually, it landed high on one wall and crawled up into the drop-ceiling area. I paused for a moment to marvel, as I always do, at the tiny spaces bats can negotiate--they're really amazing creatures. But then it occurred to me that if I took off and locked my office, I'd be shutting the bat inside until I came back. So I hung out for a while, listening to alternating periods of silence and bat-thunking-around-in-drop-ceiling. Finally, I turned out the light in my office in case the hum of the fluorescents was either attracting the bat to the room or interfering with its sonar. Within 30 seconds the bat flew out and went soaring away. I'm tempted to research the effect of fluorescent light noise on bat sonar, but I think I'll just go home instead. I've had enough bat adventures for one evening.
I thought of my friend as I crawled out my office door and stood watching the poor bat circle, first one way, then the other, somehow never finding the open doorway by which it entered. Eventually, it landed high on one wall and crawled up into the drop-ceiling area. I paused for a moment to marvel, as I always do, at the tiny spaces bats can negotiate--they're really amazing creatures. But then it occurred to me that if I took off and locked my office, I'd be shutting the bat inside until I came back. So I hung out for a while, listening to alternating periods of silence and bat-thunking-around-in-drop-ceiling. Finally, I turned out the light in my office in case the hum of the fluorescents was either attracting the bat to the room or interfering with its sonar. Within 30 seconds the bat flew out and went soaring away. I'm tempted to research the effect of fluorescent light noise on bat sonar, but I think I'll just go home instead. I've had enough bat adventures for one evening.