A Praying Mantis Moment...

A few days ago the kids found him in the park and brought him into the house. He flew in clumsy spirals, eventually settling atop a bamboo houseplant near a green lamp shade. It groomed its antennae. Then I came in closer and stared at close range. Twelve centimeters of exo-skeletal bravado stood its ground challenging me with its serrated forelegs, tilting its head side to side. It could have easily flown away, but it glared back at me. I stood there, twelve times its size...puzzled, wondering about its neural network.

I imagined ancient Chinese monks humbled by its bravery and prowess, studying its fighting style to create their own. I was impressed by this "bad boy" from the insect world. The way he tilted his head, he seemed to analyze my size and shape. The way he tilted his head made me tilt my own and wonder how so much gallantry resided in such a trivial torso of light green and yellow.

I could have stared at him for hours. But. I stopped starring at him for fear that we'd trade places. (I blinked, as I remembered Julio Cortazar's short story about the Axolotl.) After a brief set of photographs, I carried him back outside...wondering how much he'd remember about this brief encounter.