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Rated: E · Prose · Nature · #910424
This is one of my earliest memories as a child. I don't actually remember writing it.
Ladybug girl

circa 1971



          I was walking home from school. Everywhere in my neighborhood there were these kind of green trees. They looked like pine trees. But with fine fanlike branches, and their needles were soft and spongy. Whenever I was near one, I would break off those soft spongy needles and roll them in my fingers. The sky was clear blue, the kind of blue you only see in Southern California on breezy days when the smog clears. You really appreciate that blue sky on those days. The sun was bright and I was happy walking alone.

          As I passed one of those trees, and stop to feel the leaves, a small bug I see.
She was there with many others like herself. Little black dots with little black lines running down their red backs, separating them into to neat halves. One little black dot on each of those halves. Ladybugs they called them. Are they all girls I wondered thinking about the name? Almost identical they seemed, though occasionally a rather orange one could be found with many more dots on the little round shells that covered their wings. But mostly they were the same, or so they seemed until I saw her.

          Crawling on one of those green soft spongy fans. Something about her was different. What it was I wasn't sure. But she was definitely something special. I put my finger in her path and she crawled onto it. I'd always been afraid of bugs, spiders, bees etc. But I wasn't afraid of her as I felt her little legs pattering up and down my hand. I wanted to take her home and keep her. For she had something special I suddenly didn't want to lose. But I knew that she couldn't stay with me because our lives were so different. I had no idea what she wanted or needed. Later I would learn that she was probably feeding on tiny aphids, which sucked the green juice from the leaves.

          Eventually she lifted the little red shells, spread her little black wings and flew away. I followed her. She landed nearby on another of the green trees and began pattering up and down the leaves again. I stayed for a while watching her, not wanting to take my eyes off her lest I lose her among her friends.

          On my way home I continued to think about her, what would happen to her, would she be all right, would she remember me? The memory has stayed with me all these years, and probably always will, just a small ladybug on a green tree and me.
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