“I bet he feels so alone out here…”.
“Who?” I asked, trying to nudge my daughter along to dinner. We were running late to meet friends, and since our move back home to DC, distances are often much less in my mind then they are in real life so I parked way too far from the actual restaurant.
“This little bug…” she replied, in a voice that could pass for a bit sad or a bit pensive depending on how you read these types of things. And she bent over a craggy bug, which I would have immediately dismissed as some kind of roach…or maybe a cicada, if I was feeling generous. In either case, not exactly the kind of bug that you bend down and fawn over.
Except for her, she fawns over them…I would have walked past this kind of bug a million times, probably even stepping on it most of those times, but as this little roach cicada made its way across the pavement in the DC heat, my daughter had to give it just a bit of her attention. So I asked her why she felt he might be alone, realizing that this wasn’t just about the bug. “Well…he’s so small, and this place is so big, and he’s probably just trying to find the forest”, she explained.
I bet he was…I hope he finds his little piece of forest out there somewhere.
Photo by Ritchie Valens via Unsplash.