Shouldn't…but Do

She returned this evening, as she does.  A praying mantis.  Each evening now, as days shorten and chill, she overnights near my office window.

Like her mother before her, she laid egg cases in the agastache in the garden beneath the window and now sits quietly next to them.  Her mother was the biggest praying mantis I ever saw.  Inside the gate,  tucked off from harsh wind, the garden is protected.  A good place to live life.

She is dying now – like her mother before her.  Once bright green, she is browning.  She remains so still I think she has already passed.  It is so cold now.   In spring, I will bury her in that garden as I did her mother.  I am sure there is a keen biological reason for the similarity of habit.  But I prefer  the memory of generations.