Hi. I’m Skip. Here’s my point of view.
I’m also known as a Leafhopper according to some human insect hunter who found one of my ancestors hopping on a leaf, caught him, put him in a specimen jar which ended up in some dark and musty draw somewhere.
I’m not on a leaf in this photo, being on a leaf is not safe, it used to be, before the insect hunter captured and killed my ancestor. We insects have long memories and learn quickly, adapt to changes, especially those caused by humans. You think you rule the planet, you don’t, we do. We were here first, we will be here when you are gone, probably due to wiping each other out using your super powers. We will clean up after your mess, remove all traces of you. We don’t keep specimens.
You humans don’t consider insects often, unless we’re bothering you in some way. Even the ones who hunt us to categorise us don’t care about who we really are, what we are like, what music we listen to or what makes us happy or sad. You don’t think we have feelings. You rarely see the world from our perspective. You certainly never look at yourselves from our perspective, unless it is for a cartoon.
It’s a windy day, I am taking a break from hopping and being blown about, using my extra sticky suckers to stay put where I am. But where am I and how did the human who took this photo get a shot of my undercarriage?
The human who took this photo is someone I was observing. They were hunched over like a wasp attacking its prey, busily smashing the buttons on their universe in a box with their fingers. They stopped abruptly, waved their hands around, flailed their arms, then they turned their head towards me, grabbed a racket and came at me with it. I thought if I stay very still, they will miss me. You’d be surprised how bad human hand-to-eye coordination is.
A fly landed opposite me, then was hit by the racket, a small blue streak lit it up, then it dropped and was bashed repeatedly until it was more than squashed. Humans are very extreme when dealing with insects.
The human’s killing frenzy ended. They looked up, right at me, their huge eyes narrowed and moved closer. One of those eyes could eat me like a snack. Then they turned away. I thought they would return to their universe in a box, but instead they exchanged the racket for their camera.
I know what a camera is, pretty insects are always posing for those, and then brag about their photo shoot. The big eye of the camera zoomed in on me. At first I was excited, finally I am a model just like the pretty insects. But then I saw the flash open and I feared for my eyes. You think flashes hurt your big eyes, but your eyes are not even remotely as sensitive as mine.
Then I saw the human pause. The flash was closed. I wondered if they understood what the sudden sharp glaring light would have done to me. Perhaps they did.
But humans do not look at the world from the perspective of an insect such as myself.
I have to go now. Do some hopping, I call it flying. That’s my point of view. I’m Skip. Bye.