The Mantis
by
Nathanael Smith

For a couple weeks I've been watching a preying mantis as it wandered around my desk. I saw it as it caught bugs, watched it's comical and ungainly walk, seen it grow.

When it first moved in, it was a brilliant green, almost lime green. It's walk propelled it smoothly across the walls, like a gemstone arrow. It's antenna were long and always moving; it's eyes watched everything, constantly.

Time bent. The preying mantis grew darker and more dull, at some point the antenna on it's left was broken, and it's joints grew stiffer. As it walked, it was no longer a dart, it was now a purposeful stalker of bugs. Once, while I was listening to some music on my computer, the preying mantis flew down off of the window where he kept watch and onto my monitor, where he proceeded to bob his head in time with the beat and walk backwards and forwards, stopping only to stare at me in insane mockery of interest.

His wings grew from green to brown, a dead grass brown, but his body remained a dull green. Slowly, his broken antenna grew back.

Another evening, he spent the entire evening flying from one window to another, looking out, looking in, then flying on. I opened the door when he got to it, and he flew out, only to immediately change directions and fly back in. He made a three point landing on my face, startling me to an almost hysterical degree.

Over the last couple days, his wings have changed from brown to silver, a transparent silvery shine. As if on a pilgrimage, he has made his way to the eastmost window, crawling on the ceiling, putting each stiff leg in front of the next. He's there now, looking out, watching the dawn. His body has turned completely brown exept for his legs. His antenna no longer flit from place to place, but rather sweep slowly back and forth with each labored step. His eyes have lost any color they had, becoming a dull white. His body droops now, as if he is too weak to keep himself up anymore. He still turns his head to look at me when I walk up, but it's not the same perky look as it was.

What was offhanded is now deliberate. What was energy is now dying. What was interest has become sadness.

But this morning I saw another preying mantis, climbing up the side of the monitor, calmly eating a bug.

Life. A balance between old and young, birth and death, joy and weeping.

* * *

While watering the plants yesterday I happened to see that one of the plants in the window was putting out flowers. I looked at it closer, and I realized that my friend the mantis was dead and lying on top of the plant. I thought it a fitting memorial that the plant that my friend the mantis died on is the plant which flowers first.