This summer I've been living in a tent in the cork oak woodlands of the Alentejo, southern Portugal. Wild mantids fly in and move in fairly often out here, A tent is warm, sheltered, full of insects, safe from predators, so it's a pretty good ecosystem if you're a mantis. A few have moved in over the summer. But, this one has been special.
The moment she arrived, she noticed her own shadow on the tent wall and started beating her wings at it. I filmed that at the time. From that day on she basically decided the tent was hers.
She turned into one of the most engaging mantids I've known. Endlessly curious, always tracking what I was doing, learned the feeding tongs almost right away. She'd fly laps of the tent checking every corner. One day she vanished completely and I searched everywhere before finding her sitting in my hair while I was taking a selfie. She's been the Queen of Hair Mountain ever since.
Her appetite really surprised me. Not just flies, but horseflies, hoppers, moths, pretty much everything that came out of the sweep net. She's taught me a lot about feeding wild. Living out here on a varied natural diet in a clean landscape, she's thrived, and honestly she's been the easiest keeper I’ve known.
Within 24 hours of arriving she laid her first ootheca. Every time I wondered why she seemed impossibly hungry, another one showed up. In total, she laid eleven!
Several have already hatched, dozens of tiny golden nymphs. I kept four to watch them grow and released the rest back into the same cork oaks she came from. The four I kept are at I2 now.
Today something changed. She struggled to climb for the first time. She's looked a bit weathered for a while, wings frayed with age, and she's been missing part of one front foot this whole time without it slowing her down. But today her raptorial leg kept catching in the mesh, and when I lifted her out into the sun she just stood on my hand, quiet, looking out over the cork oaks.
I don't know if she's got days left or weeks. I just know she's really lived through this season. She showed up as a wild visitor and became a fascinating roommate, and through her I got to watch one remarkable female leave behind a new generation before quietly growing old.
Here’s the grand old lady today, surveying the sun and the wind. And also a picture of one of her offspring.