A larger-than-usual cricket has found a home near our walkway and I guess I should be thanking my lucky country stars that it's nothing worse than a cricket. He is there every night without fail, nestled between the wrought iron ears of a decorative horse-head that's near the driveway. This cricket is about as long as my index finger and just about the same size in circumference. My hands are not huge and my fingers aren't big, but still, this is a cricket and that size just seems ridiculous.
When we had chickens, we hardly ever saw crickets at all except for the ones that the hens would jump up to clench in their beaks and then proceed to swallow as a mid-morning snack. We never saw crickets any larger than a small paper clip back then because the hens gobbled them all up before they had a chance to grow. (I do miss the chickens for their insect-eating abilities even though I did think that habit was disgustingly gross.)
And now, we have Jiminy Cricket himself perched outside near our walkway and he seems to have found a home that he likes. Lucky me. I wouldn't have noticed him out there at all had it not been for my new schedule of puppy-walking. I take Savannah out for a walk along the road before it gets dark and there's that cricket, sitting there inbetween the horse's ears and I can even see the cricket's head moving as his eyes follow us as we go down the walkway then along the driveway towards the road.
There is plenty of room on that horse-head for more than one cricket. One of these evenings, I know I'll be walking out there and instead of one cricket there will be two and soon after that there may be an entire cricket family between those wrought-iron ears. Well, as I said... I should be thanking my lucky country stars that it's only a cricket.
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