People don’t really devote all that much time to thinking about the amorous life of bats. I’m not bringing it up as a criticism or anything, it’s a statement more in the vein of the refreshing yet biting social commentary you’ve all come to know and love me for. Maybe you’d much rather I get back to talking about bats doing the nasty in ever increasing excruciating detail. Well, get your minds out of the gutter you filthy animals.
I’m actually quite disappointed in you – this is regarding romance rather than any of that nonsensical hanky-panky you’re currently fixating on like some sex obsessed bag of hormones. Instead of that animalistic rutting you had your mind on or anything similarly unsanitary this situation has so very much more to do with sweet gestures such as procuring bunches of flowers for the object of your affection and suitable acts of courtship.
But do bats really go through the same rituals we pursue as humans? Do they agonise over whether to go for chocolates or perfume for their special female bat friends? Do the ladies of the species have to worry about nonsenses such as whether or not to shave their legs (does supposedly unsightly body hair bother anyone but us?)? None of that really matters to this particular quiet bat couple, they’re getting swept away in the heady romance of it all.
They’re in the middle of something. It might be a conflict between feuding bat colonies like some wildlife version of a certain set of star crossed lovers. Or some great ecological disagreement that’s getting everyone else all hot and bothered as the environment does exactly the same thing. There’s every chance that the thing they’re stuck in the middle of is life with some of their friends sticking fast in an extended adolescence and others hurtling onwards into uncharted territories of marriage and parenthood. But that’s hardly likely is it?
Song choices courtesy of: John Powell, King Creosote & Jon Hopkins and Jimmy Eat World