Praying mantis

Praying mantises are pretty vicious little killers -- at full size they're usually about 7 to 12cm long (that's 2.5 to 3.5 inches for our American friends). They're pretty long and spindly, and they move incredibly slowly when approaching prey. It will then, at lightning speed, grab its prey with its forelegs, rip its head off, and eat it (it's easier that way, the insect struggles less). They are also cannibalistic -- both among developing praying mantises and most famously among adults during copulation. The female during copulation frequently rips the male's head off and proceeds to eat him. This does not always happen, but it does happen quite frequently -- it depends exactly how quick the male is ;-).

They have a lifespan of a little under a year. The female lays eggs in egg cases (called ootheca) with about 70 eggs before winter, dies and then they hatch in spring. The immature mantises don't go through a larval stage; rather they go through about 12 moultings. The females if they can't get a male (I wonder why the males wouldn't be interested) can actually produce eggs through parthenogenesis, but all the offspring are female.

There is also a British rock band called praying mantis.

I love praying mantises and it's a good thing I do because they love my yard!

I followed the mantis' gaze down through the forest of mint that grew near the barrel. In the aromatic shadows, a garter snake lay poised to strike. The snake lunged, the mantis struck back, Jackie Chan against the giant serpent. The snake fell back, but did not leave. Again it set to strike, and the mantis cocked its head with the steady grace of an aging dancer. Another flash of movement, again the snake quickly repelled.

The snake started to rise again, and then slowly, as though accepting defeat, lowered its head and slowly slithered away.

Praying mantises can scoot, and if particularly perturbed, can even take flight. This one held her ground. Maybe its a praying mantis trait, taking umbrage at hungry garter snakes. Maybe it was peculiar to the mantis in my garden that day. No way to know.

When the snake had gone, the mantis straightened herself back to her usual position, head up, legs folded in front; she regarded me for a moment, her head slowly moving through an impossible angle, then apparently dismissed me as harmless as she went about her business.

In my days in my backyard I have seen a dragonfly merge from its nymph shell, only to die an hour or so later next to its casing. I have seen a lightning bug successfully woo her mate as the two exchanged brilliant flashes, she half-hidden on a brandywine tomato vine, he drawing out a "J" in flight with each flash (perhaps her name was Juliet?). My children regard me as a little odd, "But it's OK, Dad, you're odd in a good way...."

On warm, sunny days, my adult daughter sometimes spends hours staring at the life on the edge of a pond, just for the sheer joy of it. It is one of the few times I allow myself to believe I was a competent parent.

We find a huge praying mantis.
I am a nerd, so I decide this is an excellent time for a science lesson. This is what is sounds like to Avery:

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah...
...and then after they mate, she eats him."

Avery ponders the perils of praying mantis romance for a very long time. Finally, she says, "If I was a praying mantis boy, I would marry a vegetarian."