The creatures in the loft

Some are louder than others.

There’s a creature in the loft. I heard it before, a tiny scratching near the chimney breast above. I wondered if it was a bird perhaps. There are spiders for sure, and a queen wasp who came to hibernate but died- I think- when she couldn’t find a gap to leave through. She is still resting on the insulation, I check on her each time I visit for a trembling wing, a slight twitch to her antennae. She can stay as long as she likes, dead or alive. I’m just glad she felt safe there for a while. The spiders don’t bother me. Silent, at least to the humans below their floor, or their ceiling, or which ever way up or down they are. We are just something behind the plasterboard and electric cabling. Or probably nothing at all to them if we really think about it. Which I do. I shine my torch above my head when I ascend the ladder into the darkness, checking for webs and thick black legs. I don’t want them in my hair, but they can live in my roof, if they like it there.

But no. This isn’t a spider or a wasp. Or even a bird I suspect. It seems to make the most noise when I am on my own. When the children are sleeping. Sometimes it is just that tiny, skittering, almost not there noise on the far side of my bedroom ceiling. I can ignore that quite happily. But a couple of times it has made itself known with some ferocity. Not known in species. No. I have no idea if it is a rat or a squirrel. Or maybe it is a bird. Or maybe all three. Twice it has shaken me. Gnawing, or scratching at the board directly above my head with fierce determination. It was probably only determined to make itself comfortable or hide its food, but it was fierce all the same. I banged on the ceiling. That made it worse, which made me fearful. What was this thing that wasn’t scared of a human fist? I banged louder, it was louder, it scratched faster. I banged louder. I made a contingency plan in case it made its way through the ceiling. I called my sister to let her hear it, standing on the bed with the phone held high. She was concerned, but I could hear a smile, she knew I would be fine. The sound of my voice quietened the creature. We talked until it faded away, completely out of earshot. I watched it in my minds eye- this rat, bird, squirrel- scurrying away on the telephone wire and into the oak tree next door. The next time I heard it I played it music and it quickly disappeared.

Most people have told me to kill it in a lethal trap. The thought hasn’t crossed my mind, not even for a moment. The trouble is, when you trap rats alive and release them miles away, it is said that they will always find their way back. Or if they don’t, they will die trying. As much as I dislike the occasional noise, the residue of chewed cardboard, I can’t kill it. And I don’t know what it is. No. I need to know what we are dealing with before I can find a solution. Some creatures are benign. They are there, silent like spiders, no long term damage. Some are more troublesome. Leaving holes in memories like amnesia. But until the noise becomes too loud, the holes too big to mend, I think I will leave the creatures alone. Well, they aren’t alone. They are living in my loft which is, it seems, quite alive. Quite alive with creatures of all kinds.

I hope you enjoyed this stream of consciousness, something a bit different to my usual. Let me know in the comments- either way!