The Beetle, the Bee, the Cricket, and the Moth.

A conference of the smaller terrestrial creatures was held on the occasion of the summer solstice. Those in attendance discussed the advantages of their respective lifestyles.

The beetle, uncertain of what to say, began: “My life is the best I could imagine. I spend my time rooting through underbrush and hidden places, finding food where no one else cares to look, and resting most of the time. It is a happy, simple life, and I get by.”

The bee, buzzing with self-assurance butted in next: “I feel sorry for you, beetle. You will never know the joy of a grand purpose. We bees live and work together in an orderly society to build something greater than ourselves. Our complex hives remain after we are gone; our honey is unmatched in sweetness and is much sought after by other creatures. Your poor life is one of mere labor to sustain your useless existence.”

The cricket, offended by the arrogance of the bee, spoke in turn: “Do direct your calumny away from our friend the beetle and turn your critical gaze to yourself. Is your 'grand purpose' really any more useful than that of the beetle's simpler way? Is your 'orderly society' really such a great place to live? We crickets respect one another's space and yet still find time to communicate and create — which we do through our songs that pierce through the dark to sweeten our lonesome nights with melody. We live a social life, but it is a life based on mutual respect and shared expression.”

The moth, who had so far been silent as usual, spoke: “Whether one labors to sustain life, works toward a broader legacy, or sings out against the loneliness of the night matters little to we moths. To be a moth is to know death, for each of us dies once before we get our wings, and to know death is to know the futility of all things. Even so, given the chance, we moths will always fly toward the light.”