The Singing Song of Survival

Creeping up to the stop sign in the van, once all kids had exited and were safely at Vacation Bible School and all was insanely quiet, I heard something....not the usual odd noises that prove the van approaches its own vehicular death, not clanking or squealing, but rather a teeny, barely audible chirp.  Yes, a chirp!

Somewhere in the depths of this shoe-gravel-laden, sticky seat belted monstrous mode of transport I hear life.  Scant, but there.  A cricket has found a way into a new home.  Will he or she find their way out?

Crickets.  Omnivores. Not much of a threat.  Sort of like worms these choral insects ingest and then excrete good-for-the-garden goo.

A young woman I know, proud owner of a bearded dragon, shared how the crickets meant for his lunch escaped and hundreds of them inhabited their house for weeks, chirping at all hours.

So at least it is merely one and only in the van.

Besides, I like the chirp...it's the sound of life, of bravado in a foreign place, and...perhaps I over analyze...survival.