Eyes in the Leaves

A tiny rustle caught my ears from along the timber fence just past eight o'clock. Slipping past the lawn into the deep garden shadows, I crept toward the base of the hedge. In the dim outdoor dark, two tiny amber beads reflected back at me through the leaves—a tiny brown field cricket perched on a fallen twig. It rubbed its wings with a faint, dry trill, completely unaware that I was watching. I stayed motionless, listening to the small nocturnal vibration until it flickered into the undergrowth, leaving only the cool night air.