It was nearly dusk when I realized I had lots of stuff to put in the yard waste bin for pick-up tomorrow, so I raked pine needles and cut tangles of wisteria vines that were trying to get in the kitchen window. At the last, I pulled out the wallflower bush that has been dead and bleaching in the sun for a couple of weeks now. I put it on top of the stuffed-in green matter, but the lid was not near to closing, so I went back for my pruners to cut up the bush a bit.

Then I saw the mantis, barely browner than the bush, and he wasn’t interested in going anywhere. So I took his picture, such a patient subject he was. My neighbor came down to look at him, too, and watched while I managed to pick him up and move him over to the coreopsis.

I had hoped to have a full day of gardening today, but very little of that got done. I measured bathroom floors, ran around from the tile store to the home improvement store, measured floors again… back to the tile store, researched windows and window coverings…

In an email to my contractor I wrote the proverb that came to mind, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” I think I still have patience; what else is there to have? But I ran out of emotional strength about three days ago. I’m managing without it.

That last little burst of pruning and raking and being in the garden was the best thing of the whole day, and by itself lifted my heart quite a bit. But the mantis saved the day, by showing up and hanging out with me for a few minutes, and letting himself be rescued. ❤