Lions and Cheetahs

Last week, I saw a portion of an interesting documentary about the evolution and divergence of several species of cats. Africa, for example, is home to two of the most unique species of felines in the world: cheetahs and lions.

Cheetahs have the distinction of being the fastest land animal in the world. Their superlative speed makes them adept hunters. However, like nearly all cats, they live and hunt alone. This leaves them vulnerable to harassment by other predators, and exposes their young to serious hazards. Though capable, they must rely only on their own abilities. They spend a lot of time running, hiding, and locating their offspring.

Lions are not nearly as stealthy and fast as the cheetah, but they have evolved an adaptation that makes them unique to all cats: they form a social structure, called a pride. Instead of taking care of all its needs alone, the lion relies on its pride to share several responsibilites. Some hunt, some are on watch, and some care for the young. This makes a pride of lions a formidable opponent, rivaled only by other groups of predators. Their young are seldom alone and exposed, their kills are not easily challenged, and they usually lounge comfortably out on the open savanna.

The stark contrast between these styles had a profound impact on my philosophy toward prepping. Most preppers, myself included, are like the cheetah. We focus on getting our preps together, honing our own skills, and hiding away from prying eyes. Our focus on self-reliance is as much a limitation as a virtue. Like the cheetah, we are easily singled out and separated from our vulnerable dependents. We spend way too much time running, hiding, lying low, and distrusting.

I have begun to realize the need for interdependence in the preparedness community, but how is this accomplished in a community that is, for the most part, pretty reclusive? As a group that is sometimes targeted as being extreme, or at least a high value target for looters, it is more important now than ever that we band together, for mutual protection.

That's why I opened a Facebook group for a local preparedness network. I will be interested to see what can become of it. I admit that I didn't really start it with a clear objective in mind. I hope the group might spontaneously assume an identity, as we get to know each other better, invite and acquire other members, and share ideas. I believe everyone should be a prepper. It is simply foolish to do otherwise in a world that is so obviously unstable. With so many hazards, we need to be ready.

And we need to be lions.

Tarantula Hawk

While in the Sonoran Desert of Arizona near the town of New River, I noticed a large black-blue wasp with an orange wing-set. It flew purposefully around, entering several tiny burrows in the ground, and then quickly exited to examine another hole. It reminded me of a wasp I had heard about in a nature documentary from years ago called the tarantula hawk.

A quick trip to Wikipedia confirmed that my specimen matched the description of the tarantula hawk, also called pepsis wasp, of the genera Pepsis. I took some cell-phone pictures which, once cropped, rendered an extremely blurry image of her.

She was very active in the 38 C heat, and while not aggressive was nonetheless disturbed by my presence. That's why I couldn't get a very good close-up. 

These insects belong to a special family of solitary spider wasps called Pompilidae, all of which prey upon spiders. The tarantula hawk is so named because the female stings, paralyzes, and then relocates the arachnids to her nest where she thereupon lays her eggs and leaves. The young larvae feed on the still living spider as their first meal.

Further reading revealed that the tarantula hawk's sting is so painful that it is rivaled only by that of the bullet ant in Brazil.

Maybe keeping my distance wasn't a bad call.