A bat lives a life most vertical, at least during the day when for them the lights go out. They hang upside down, at least that’s what humans and most of the mammals say. But for them, it is right side up - to stand upright on two feet (or four) sounds like a terrible bore to them. It most certainly gives a backache and painful pressure on the soles. Better to fly through the air, or hang in sleep to let the blood go to your head - it makes dreams fuller and drives all nightmares away.

Those black and brown leathery mice just know how to live right! Maybe that’s why we dream of vampires - exotic, erotic, and ever so charming. Deep down do we wish to reach back to an evolutionary cousin and return to the caves and hang around with them?

Most creatures don’t know how beautiful it is to be Chiroptera - Greek for ‘hand wing’. They are the only mammals able to truly fly, much closer than even humans to the winged Angels high in the heavens, so close to the throne of God. And like those Seraphim and Cherubim, those bats - they croon and carol.

Most often to lower creatures, imperceptible.

Their song is not only about echolocation (bats always know just where they are - and more importantly why. They know not existential or spiritual anxiety. They are whole with and within themselves. That is why their notes reach the most high sounding register.)

It is a language of their own, in frequencies not audible to our weak ears. It is a high-pitched poetry that pleases the Muses, verses and stanzas and sweet rhythms telling of the secrets of a darkness filled with light. Do not be surprised if you see a bat hanging or flying in the night with a crown laurel upon their head, or a harp tucked between their wings being plucked with their tiny hands. A sound so soft, a sound so deep, a sound most elegant and appealing.

Most confuse it with the zephyr of dusk, or the midnight breeze, or the gust that signals dawn.

Listen close, you might learn something.

Whichever and whatever, just listen to and remember the flying bats’ song. Sadly, mostly none have heard the choral chant of the colony. A peaceful hymn to the grandeur of life.

So listen, listen and really hear. Forget all that propaganda told by those other mammals and their folklore. Bats are beautiful, their lives matter.

So, the next time your eyes widen to take in the night, and you see a flutter and flap of a shadow in the sky - make a bow to the angels of the night, to their song woven from the highest sounds, and their great kindness of clearing the air of mosquitoes and other tiny creatures that bite, taking our blood and leaving a welt.

Raise your eyes from the horizon, find a vertical hold - behold the majestic bat, that hand-winged… Chiroptera!