The great big wildlife-before-breakfast encounter!

There he sat, waiting for me to return to the chair, I was sure.

A stink bug. 

"It's February," I told him. 

He looked up at me from his triangular (trapezoidal?) shape with soulfull stink-eyes. He just sat there where I'd recently left to fix my breakfast. I now held it on a plate in one hand, and my coffee mug in the other. 

He was located mid chair, in that space between my legs when sitting. It had been warm, and I of course had not seen him land. Perhaps he flew there while I was in the kitchen.

So I placed food items on the table, turned to him with outstretched tissue in hand, and gently pinched him into the tissue. I carried him to the door, knowing the freezing temperatures would not be to his liking. But what choice did I have? Flushing him would be faster, but actually this was a way to let him go in a more natural setting. 

He didn't want to let go of that tissue. I flung him out, and he stuck to it. 

So I actually pried him off and tried again. He flew to the ground, where he disappeared into the brownness of the mulch. Thus he's returned to nature, rather than between my legs!

I ate my eggs before they got too cold.

Today's quote:

The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing. 

-Walt Whitman, poet (31 May 1819-1892)