Yesterday

So often, it seems, as I grow older, I feel the predictability of the seasons. The child-like wonder is forgotten. The rhythms and rituals have become familiar. Some days I go out, knowing well what I will find there—and am surprised that it is not as I would have expected. As I walk this property, memories of things observed here in years past, are jostled—adjusted by differences in this year’s weather, the progression of the trees, the evolution of the pond…
Nature continues to teach new things. It cannot be predicted. Yesterday was one of those days.


The milkweed patch has been a success this year—better than ever in size and butterfly production. And I visit it every day, sometimes twice to watch the activity it attracts. I know who to expect to find there, and where. It has become as familiar to me as a room in my house. I could walk through it in the dark without tripping.
But yesterday, things were different.

I usually consider myself fortunate to find one or two praying mantids by the end of the summer. I know they lay hundreds of eggs in the foamy masses, but don’t usually encounter too many adults. They’re always so curious to look at, as they turn and look back at me--triangular heads resembling alien life forms. And, I’ve captured them in empty mayonnaise jars, to marvel at for an afternoon. Such a prize to find even one.

In the milkweed patch yesterday, on just 20 plants, I spotted 7 mantids! They were hanging everywhere—upside down from the broad leaves, their brown bodies waiting motionlessly for dinner to walk or flutter by. I was astonished to see so many. Each one of good size, some almost 6 inches long. Spending their day, hunting in the milkweed patch.


I’ve been enjoying some of the essays of Ora Anderson, a self-taught naturalist, journalist, conservationist, artist who lived to the limit of his days, 94 years, on a farm in southeastern Ohio, passing away just last August.
His marvel at the newness of each season through his keen eye, never tiring of observing and learning from immersion in the natural world. How, even after 94 years, "the riches of yesterday are replaced by new treasures today--and tomorrow."

I should have known better than to feel nature can ever be predictable.

Chinese Mantid, Tendora aridifolia