Wednesday, March 11, 2015


My crocus blooms are looking tired.  Their bright yellow color announced it wouldn’t be much longer – be patient.  Over the weekend, I walked around the yard looking for signs of spring. I found buds on trees and shrubs, shiny new growth [emerging] immerging, and azaleas preparing to burst into color. The narcissus and daylilies and gladiolus and tiger lilies and peonies and hyacinths and irises were pushing thru the soil. 

I discovered an egg sac clinging to a thin limb on the butterfly bush.  I wondered what was hidden inside.  Maybe praying mantises?  I’ve seen them around for a number of years.

Now that I’ve mentioned praying mantises, I have to tell you a story – circa late 1960s... 

One afternoon, I sat down on the bench of our old upright piano.  It was time to practice my lessons.  I grew tired, but continued on to cross the finish line.  However, I didn’t finish.  Not at all.

It may have been that the room was warm.  It may have been the vibration of the piano keys.  It may have been that it was just time.  Suddenly, I saw bunches of tiny little alien things cascading from a glass vase sitting on the top shelf.  I screamed.  Very loudly.  My Dad came running, saw what was happening, and told me not to hurt them!  Okay – I didn’t.  (They are a must-have for gardens!) 

I got out of the way and watched him attempt to gather up the tiny babies!  Emphasis on attempt.  There were at least a hundred or so.  Literally.  He got what he could and ran outside then back inside then back outside... It was a hilarious sight!  One which is forever etched into my memory.  I wonder what happened to the ones that escaped into the house.  I wonder if he ever did that again...

And every time I see a praying mantis, I smile.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Liz I always smile when I see a praying mangos too!