05.02.2003 - 2:36 p.m.

I spent two hours yesterday evening filling in for one of the tutors. As I was sitting in the Writing Center, in the big room with the couches and windows, I became aware of a small movement on the windowsill.

It was the tiniest praying mantis I�ve ever seen, no longer than my thumbnail, with legs that tapered to the width of a hair. There were three more on various parts of the window, each a slightly different color, a different mix of green and dusty brown. I watched them for a long time; they moved with choreographed precision, pausing every so often to stand still as possibility.

They were absolutely fearless. One by one I moved the tip of my pen towards them, and one by one they drew themselves up to their full miniscule height before mounting the approaching object as if I should consider it a privilege to support them.

One by one I ferried the four of them out, slowly down the hallway, across the atrium, and through the back door, to set them down in the foliage outside.

I considered it a great privilege.

-stonebridge

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