Now that I write about bugs, I remembered a fragment I read a while ago on the hatching and coming of age of a locust. After doing some digging, I found it again, the fragment belongs to Brood X, written by Dan Stockman who is, according to the Pithead Chapel, a veteran Journalist in Fort Wayne, Indiana (…) working on an MFA in Creative Writing at Fairleigh Dickinson University. The extract is from chapter 8 and is written with a firm hand and a clear gift for storytelling.
I’ll only give a bit of a gentle nudge in its direction, with a first paragraph or so, but don’t take my word for it, go see the author’s piece on Pithead Chapel, it really is a think of beauty:
It is high summer, when the trees soar and the breeze is slow, the grass deep, and the world is exploding with life. Every square inch seems to be crawling with something, and even the inches themselves are alive—tree bark and plant root and soil. Even the inanimate feels the flow of energy, as vinyl siding expands with the heat of the day and contracts in the cool, asphalt fills its own cracks, and ice cream seems bent on escape from the confines of a cone. Children explode across the landscape, and even adults find new life, discovering both vast reserves of energy and a deeper lust for rest.
Quiet in the middle of this teeming, swarming world lies the egg, small and white, nestled carefully into an incision made into a twig on a tree branch, high above the ground (…)
You can find the full chapter 8, here: