Nice Thoughts
Posted by admin in General
Catching grass-hoppers as a young girl used to be my favourite thing to do in the whole entire world. Allow me to elaborate; it wasn’t cruel, and no harm (psychological, if that’s possible, or otherwise) was done. It was more cradling that catching. I didn’t want to cause the little fellas and fella-rets distress. I merely wanted to feel them in my hands. The strange sensation of a tiny life bopping around, a miniature coiled spring.
I used to be good at it. How good? Very. On average I’d catch five or six every time my brother and I went to the meadow by my house. I was always sad when the weather grew dim and the grasshoppers disappeared to wherever it was they went. As soon as I heard their clicking again, sounding out across the whole meadow at the start of the summer, I went straight out there.
Fast forward fifteen years and I don’t often get the chance to catch grasshoppers. Maybe that’s inaccurate. I don’t make the chance. So last week I did just that. I set out to catch some, when I would otherwise have been out buying shoes (or doing something else dull like getting a Caravan insurance quote ).
It went badly. Something had changed. Everything was the same (apart from I was twice as big and twice as obvious to grasshoppers) but I just couldn’t catch any. It took me an hour to catch one, but when I did, excitement danced within me, I’m telling you!