Grass Hopping

Whenever I use my car for transportation, it is likely that one or both of the following is true: the windows are down; I am singing. Two nights ago, I was guilty of both. And when both variables are incorporated into the driving experience, my awareness of the proximity of others is heightened.

In circumstances when vehicular movement is involved, the karaoke spectacle goes mostly unnoticed. The same cannot be said, however, for the cease of forward motion caused inevitably by the red dot that shines brightly from light fixtures at high volume intersections. When movement is no longer an option, the singer clearly takes center stage to those fortunate enough to parallel the vocal debut. As a result, in the moments prior to a complete stop, I actually make a conscious effort to minimize the volume of my music and to sing along in a muffled, ventriloquist-like fashion so as not to offend my fellow motorists, and to avoid complete humiliation.

Just as my fingers released from the volume knob and my eyes darted quickly to peer out the driver’s side window to avoid any possible stares from those on my right who may have heard my singing only seconds before, I saw something green out of the corner of my eye. Forgetting all about potential onlookers, I quickly turned back to my right to inspect the object on my windshield that had so abruptly caught my attention. The moment I realized it was a grasshopper, the light turned green.

The movement of the car encouraged the grasshopper to make his way downward towards the windshield wipers. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. For obvious reasons, that was not a good thing. As I watched his little antennas blowing backward at a ninety-degree angle, I couldn’t help but wonder what this little creature might be thinking. Did he choose to take this adventure? Is he regretting his choice? Is he scared? Is he planning to go where no grasshopper has gone before? Thinking he might be wishing for solid ground over the car surfing experience, I found myself driving more slowly and cautiously than preferred by those around me. Before I could make anyone too upset with my preoccupied navigation, the grasshopper decided to head northbound on the windshield and, just as quickly as he appeared, crawled out of sight. I can only hope it was to greener pastures…or, even, just a green pasture.

There are times when I find myself getting caught up in the notion that the grass is greener on the other side. I wonder if the grasshopper thought this very thing, only to find that there was actually no grass at all.