Truck-yards are not the most interesting places on earth; they’re not the cleanest, and I’m sure that more than a few of them stand in violation of various environmental protection initiatives. In short, they’re not entirely fun. I will—grudgingly—admit that they are necessary, to a degree. I’ve spent quite a lot of time in one particular truck-yard, and I still find myself within its confines on a weekly basis. Chicago has had an exceptionally wet summer and so the truck-yard that occupies so much of my time has become a wet, rusty place, brimming with weed-growth. Because of the weeds, non-human people have decided that it’s a reasonable place to live…among such people, I’ve counted two breeds of grasshopper. One breed is skittish and photo-resistant. The other breed—I haven’t looked up their name—is more gregarious and exceptionally photogenic. I was graced with the company of a photogenic grasshopper, last week. I was actually a designated resting place, according to the grasshopper in question. When grasshoppers decide that you’re a convenient place to land, the opportunity to photograph them increases exponentially. I’ve nabbed dozens of shots of this particular model, and I’m sure that I’ll find the impulse to post many of those shots, later. I felt the urge to post this particular capture, simply because I like it. The grasshopper model—at the time of this photo—decided that I was no longer an interesting enough perch, and so it walked elsewhere…to the driver’s side door of a moving truck. When grasshoppers walk, they do so in the most casual manner imaginable. For those with an astute eye, this grasshopper may seem vaguely familiar: in an alien-world sort of way. When I developed the Eul’taliib species, I wasn’t thinking about grasshoppers very much, but I was inordinately fascinated by the prospect of watching one or more of them eat. Their mouth parts are extremely complicated, quite numerous, machine-like in their precision. I think it is because of grasshoppers dining on truck-yard plant growth that I decided that my fictional Eul’taliib should have interesting mouths and large, almost crystalline eyes; the whole idea of chemical speech (delivered via spitting) actually did come from a more literal take on the common grasshopper defensive act of…well…spitting. A frightened grasshopper will spit a substance that goes by many names, including tobacco, though it’s more like the grotty “spit” one produces when indulging in the habit of chewing tobacco. It is brown, liquid, and pungent…apparently it’s an irritant to small thing and a moderate “gross-out” to humans. It’s also a rather convenient inspiration, when one is considering likely modes of alien communication. Odd how insect communication and alien communication are sometimes the same thing…ah, but that’s how fiction works, ya know. And so here is a grasshopper. A muse. A very cooperative model with very nice leg patterns. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and hopefully you’re all at the start of a great week.