This is a walking stick, a bug I spotted walking on the window screen. Unlike most insects who scurry here and there, like they have had too much coffee, the walking stick takes every step very thoughtfully.
The limbs that support his body aren’t much wider than a human hair, and yet they are meant to carry the walking stick to food. They’re herbivores, and so it is salad today and salad tomorrow. That slim frame must seek out its daily nourishment on legs that most of us don’t even see. Are they even there: Those worthless limbs that climb the scrubby plants alongside the garden?
Ah, but the walking stick isn’t thinking about his legs. He is thinking about the steps. Each one is taken without strife, but with the intention of a bullet. It knows where it wants to go, and the entire energy of the cosmos is behind every single step. The legs are conduits. The legs, without judgement, are portals that allow the certainty of the entire universe to be grounded here on Earth.
Side note: Thank you to all my new readers for stopping by.