Walking Stick, JMN, photo. (C) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.

You sweet bastard. Just two days ago I transferred you from the risky environs of the patio to the security of the Jatropha bush. Now I find you again on the patio inert, apparently expiring. What has hurt you? Or is it old age? You’re fairly large, that’s true. Have you reached the end of your cycle, and if so, did you leave lots of progeny behind? I hope so. You’re one of the most fragile-looking and beautiful critters I’ve stumbled upon. I may have seen three of your kind in my whole life thus far. I’ll monitor you on my work table here in the cool indoors. Make a globule of water available. Maybe you’ll revive. I doubt it. I’ll mourn your passing. If I have anything else to say to people like you, it’s this: If you’re going to come to my attention, be prepared to stick around a little longer. These partings are painful.

(C) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.