I picked up a grasshopper hitchhiker in Valle Crucis yesterday.  Just riding along, windows down, I was feeling good to be traveling through pastures along the river when suddenly landing on the seat beside me:  a green green grasshopper.  And a good sized grasshopper.  He, I think a he, was finger length and filled with grasshopper vigor.  After whirling in through the window he sat on the seat for a couple of minutes then moved up onto an armrest.  I suppose to improve the view.

I wasn't quite sure what exactly he wanted as we passed by houses and woods.  I slowed at a few fields but none were of much interest to him.  He seemed quite content to be riding along listening to Bob Marley.  A rasta-hopper?  The sun was out for a change, the seats of the van were nice and warm.  It seemed enough.  For the moment anyway.

After a few miles I came to a large grassy meadow and thought surely this piece of golden glory would be the one.  It had everything:  flowers, knee-high grasses, butterflies, birds and bees.  When I pulled over the grasshopper immediately bounded from the seat and flew directly into the field.  It was as though this particular meadow had been his destination all along.  Me?  Just a fellow traveler with plenty of extra room.  Bob Marley?  One Love was his message.  Yesterday that included a grasshopper.  But then again, what day wouldn't?