We were roaming a museum garden when we came across this insect crawling across a marble bench. I have no idea what it is! Do any of you?
I was thinking it was a hatchling, like a caterpillar, that couldn't shed it's cocoon. The large back side showed no signs of expanding, but you never know with insects. I could imagine that part balooning to twenty times its size, like a giant defense mechanism. Maybe it's simply constipated. If that were the case, I'd leave it alone for the right specialist.
It had a mouth that extended from its body, like a tentacle with a suction cup on the end, to pull it's way forward. Stretch out, latch on, and pull. Then again, and again, as it inched its way along. It looked exhausting, but without knowing what it was, I couldn't say. Maybe this is how it worked out, dragging a heavy bag along to build up its stamina.
I wanted to stay until it reached the marble edge and see what it would do next, or maybe help it to safer ground, but not knowing what it was meant I wouldn't know what it needed. Or wanted. Or, even wanted any help.
So we moved along to enjoy our day, leaving behind this curiosity to enter rooms filled with ancient artifacts, where other allegedly smarter than us had determined what those items represented. I would accept their assessments as likely fact, but like the insect, envisioned my own interpretations, expressed from experience and imagination.
We really don't know everything, but by living with our imaginations is a fun place to be, isn't it?
