Destivelle the Grasshopper

An unexpected guest settles in for a long winter stay

A surprise house guest teaches its host a few unexpected life lessons.

Two winters ago, in January, I received an unexpected house guest. Deep within the recesses of a bag of organic Californian kale, which I had taken out of the fridge to chop up for dinner one night, was a three-inch grasshopper that had survived being in the fridge for two weeks before being found. Struck with trepidation at the sight of a bag of produce that was moving— yes, I squealed and jumped back in surprise—i regained my composure once I realized the insect was not a massive cockroach. I caught the grasshopper in a two- litre glass jar, but didn’t know what to do next. I knew I could not just put the grasshopper outside, since it would mean a certain death in our cold and snowy climate; nor could I bring myself to end its life outright by my own hand. So, I scattered kale in the glass jar and hoped an answer would come to me the next day.

As it happened, one day led to another and I found myself becoming fond of watching it and feeding it new foods. At my behest, the grasshopper would transition to a new jar every second day or so, when the food inside became less fresh and the jar was soiled. It was truly amaz-

ing. The grasshopper always understood what I was doing and consistently went into the new jar! I was so impressed by its climbing abilities as it scaled the glass walls of the jar, which seemed incredibly dissimilar to getting a handhold on vegetation, that I named “her” Destivelle, after the famous French freestyle rock climber, Catherine Destivelle. At one point, I realized I should get her a larger and better environment, so I bought a Gecko Biobubble and filled it with a variety of fresh organic herbs and sprouts. Interestingly enough, although Destivelle was found in a bunch of kale, she seemed to love eating slices of sweet bell peppers the most, which she gobbled up with astonishing speed.

Destivelle stayed with us for almost six months, right through the winter, and although her time with us was not without incident—regrettably she had a few close calls with my cats, one of which left her injured— she was a fascinating creature whom I grew to love. For quite some time after we parted ways, I could not make a salad without thinking of her and becoming misty- eyed, as I still had the urge to give her the ends of vegetables that I would normally throw away. Being a city gal, watching Destivelle off and on throughout the day gave me a new appreciation for natural processes, including composting and its wide- ranging benefits, not only for our land, but for insects, animals, bacteria and fungi alike.

She also helped stir memories that let me realize, on a conscious level, I was not originally frightened of insects, but that this was a learned behaviour picked up in my youth. I gather I would have learned many more things from her had we stayed together longer. As I reflect upon our exchanges, I hope I can continue to learn from her even though she is no longer with us.

Like the start of most new relationships, I was nervous at first. Then, I could not possibly figure out how to make room for her in my life. And, in the end, I could not think of Destivelle as anything other than part of the family. There is an ancient Greek custom called xenia, which means guest- friendship or guest- hospitality, whereby— without pressing for information, at least at first— you welcome a stranger from another place into your home and provide food, gifts and other amenities until he or she is ready to move on again.

Destivelle was uprooted from her home in California; made the harrowing journey to Montreal, likely refrigerated, in a box and a crate; and jostled along in a truck, or possibly a plane, only to end up by accident in my fridge. I can only imagine such a voyage. While I am not from a Greek cultural background, it is what I study and I am grateful to have experienced a small part of the ancient tradition of xenia, albeit with an unconventional companion. Nevertheless, it was with a foreigner from a foreign land and, even though I provided Destivelle with shelter and food, I feel I was the one who was blessed by our encounter. Thank you, Destivelle, for opening my heart and teaching me about myself when I least expected it. ■

Shannon transitioned Destivelle from one glass jar to another—eventually keeping her in a Gecko Biobubble.