I was sitting in my car in a park after a long, rewarding day in the field. I set my clipboard down having finished my paperwork, started the car and slowly pulled out of the parking area. It was then I noticed a very good-looking katydid peering at me through the bottom of the driver side window. I was driving but our eyes met and there was an infinitesimal — from a human perspective — yet profound and penetrating connection which mostly bypassed my consciousness at the time. Clearly this was a Jedi katydid.
I’m the kind of person who, concerned for the safety of the katydid, would ordinarily stop, take the tettigoniid off the car and try to place it in a secure and cool-looking place. The Jedi katydid, however, had infused me with a transcendent sense of abandon. I “communicated” that the park was a nicer place than where we were going and that I would rather stay at the park (if I was the katydid). The Universe, flowing flawlessly though the katydid, “communicated” that I was a fool and that I couldn’t possibly discern the Universe’s designs. So I abandoned everything but the simplicity of my travel but with the residual notion that leaving the park would give the katydid plenty of time and experience to bail-out before I reached maximum velocities.
Long ago (in a galaxy far, far away) I had a speedometer on my bicycle. I knew that 35 miles-per-hour was really fast. After leaving the park and sitting at a stoplight (last chance to bail), the Jedi Katydid and I entered the fastest posted speed limit of our trip together: we started-off with 45mph! (Thank goodness for cruise control!) The longest stretch of our trip was at 40mph! At stoplights, this wafer of an insect would casually put tarsal tip to mouth; the better to hold onto the glass at 40 miles-per-hour!
We eventually decelerated to 35mph, the Jedi’s antennae quivering in our speed.
We arrived at my first stop but I remained in the car listening to the radio and watching my green companion groom, pulling its antennae through its mouth. I photographed. The Jedi Knight, who I thought was more of a thrill-seeking adolescent at the time, slowly climbed up. By the time the radio segment was over and I was ready to get out, it had conveniently left the door and was on the roof. That was the last I saw of that traveler. Perhaps we will meet again.