See Your World

Walking home one late afternoon last fall, my husband spied the creature pictured above on the sidewalk. The praying mantis would have been easy to miss, for s/he blended well with the surrounding detritus. My husband scooped her up in a nearby cup.

By the time they reached our living room, the mantis had consumed the beads of Coca-Cola that had clung to the cup’s interior. The mantis seemed cramped in the cup, so I encouraged a move to the backyard with our guest.

My husband sat on the ground and invited the mantis out of the cup. While my husband morphed into the mantis’s playlot—allowing her/him to explore his arms, his shoulders—I ran back into the apartment for some nourishment for the insect.

I sliced open a pawpaw and took it to our guest. Before I could deposit the fruit on a leaf, though, the mantis grabbed the knife I held. Forcibly pulled the knife toward him/her.

My heart stopped. I was sure the blade had injured him/her.

But s/he was fine.

Though the mantis didn’t eat much, s/he certainly savored it for a long while, licking every last little bit off her/his legs.

We continued watching our guest, likely to our guest’s annoyance. It was a delightful way to spend an evening—better than any other way we might have chosen to fritter away our time.

As the sun gave way to a night sky, we chose a tree the creature could seek sanctuary in and bid our praying mantis goodnight.

“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”
—Henry Miller