We found a walking stick in the garage yesterday.
Quite exciting! They’re so rare a find.
It had walked all the way across the cement floor and up to the step to enter the house. (You’d think he’d have touched the cement and thought, Hey, this isn’t natural. I should turn back. I haven’t found an insect yet who thinks this way.)
We put it in a jar to show some of the tiny people in the area (who just happen to be studying insects in school these days) and then released it into the wild today.
I couldn’t help thinking what a coincidence it was to find it. Or, how metaphorically correct it was to be sending it back off to the place from whence it came.
Tomorrow, I’m having foot surgery.
And with a little luck (and no complications) I’ll be getting rid of this – the walking stick I’ve been using for the past few months.
I can’t help thinking that this is bug visitation, and subsequent send off, is some kind of omen — or sign from the universe that all will be well.
Someone out there is saying, “Soon, you won’t need that cane anymore.”
(I can’t help it: I’m wired that way. I write fiction, remember?)
So, wish me luck.
I’ll catch up with y’all in a few days.