Today’s photoboot stars a small green grasshopper which was having its insides sucked out by a spiky black Bosch-beast when we walked past. If only, for the sake of camouflage, it had been able to change places with Ivor Cutler‘s:
A great grey grasshopper jumped on my knee, dusty with age.
I was wearing my blue serge trousers, so the grasshopper left a mark.
My mother was ever so sad – they had just come back from the cleaners.
“I shall stop your pocket money for three weeks!” she shouted, and burst.
In tears.
By way of an unsolicited encore, here’s a butterfly I rather liked. I still know absolutely nothing about butterflies except that they seem to like trying to fly into my ears, which do not resemble any species of flower seen recently on this planet.
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