Potential and Kinetic

The peonies are opening. Every winter, I forget exactly how they look, retaining only a general impression of innocent frowziness in my mind. Then every spring, they bloom, outrageous, excessive, irregular, and so delicately pink that I remember why I anticipate their opening.

A few days before the peony buds began showing pink at the top, praying mantises hatched. I saw one on the lid of our trashcan and helped it hop over to the faded ivy on our front wall, where another wandered.

Over the past 3 or 4 years, we have for various reasons gotten rid of their old nesting grounds: the persistent privet at the corner, the unfortunate bamboo, the wistful honeysuckle, all dug up. I worried that the mantises would leave. But as we're in no danger of becoming tidy-yard people, it seems there are plenty of good egg case spots left on the morning sun side of the house.

A katydid... now there's an insect I haven't seen for years. I remember watching one on our front door screen as a child on a summer evening. It was so otherworldly: silent and angular and still. Insects other than moths don't usually bother me, but I felt uneasy looking at the katydid.