There was a great potter wasp. It was caught in the bushes this afternoon. The solitary insect perched quietly on one weed twig, then on another. It perched in the same way, calm and graceful. Its eyes were large and black. Its jaws were like a bird's beak. I had hoped that the sharp beak would not bite me. Most wasps are aggressive when strangers come near them. But I dared to be near it because I knew it was friendly. I loved the way it greeted me. It deserved love from everyone.
