I came across a female stag beetle today, who had won a fight with a cobweb and was celebrating by taking a rest on the warm tarmac footpath. The busy, narrow footpath used as a haunt by impatient people. A hand was proffered to initial scepticism, but upon finding the hand was warm, this seemed like a better deal.

I then spent five minutes trying to persuade her to dismount and take to the nearby bushes, safe from feet.

· · Web · 1 · 3 · 8

Their feet and legs are very clingy and delicate so I couldn't simply lift her off, and holding my hand upside down did not phase her. Careful shaking was ignored. Audible requests met with silent derision and some antenna wiggling. She would try out a leaf or stem with a single foot and kept deciding against it, backing onto my hand again. Eventually she had half of her feet on to the greenery but as soon as I moved my hand, she'd reverse back again.

There was nothing to do but wait, stood next to my bicycle with my hand in the bushes, still, seemingly up to some sort of silent consideration of the greenery. Eventually my patience was paid off and the journey was over, safe from the feet of people and the wheels of buggies.

Sign in to participate in the conversation
Writing Exchange

A small, intentional community for poets, authors, and every kind of writer.