The Ecological Power of Praying Mantids - A Symbol of Good Fortune in both the Garden and Soul...

We had a strange guest appear in the house yesterday... How it got there, I do not know. Likely traipsing right through the front door. But why it decided to venture inside my home, I'm not sure. My daughter was the first to see it, and gasped in alarm. Then she called me from the kitchen to come look at her discovery, one of the most beautiful and illusive insect species I've ever seen - the Praying Mantis.

Sure enough, a large brown mantid sat perched on the foyer wall, holding very still in the lamp light and looking entirely out of place. It sat there calmly, trying not to be conspicuous in its iconic pose of prayer, clasping its fore arms together and twitching two small antennae, but otherwise perfectly still. Mind you, I have never seen a mantid in the garden before, or anywhere in nature, let alone indoors in my living room. We were transfixed by its exotic beauty, and debated what to do with her. No one in their right mind would squash such a queen of the insect kingdom. Although she was intimindating...

I told my daughter it was a good luck omen, it had to be, and that we should return her to the garden. So, I took a photo of her, then gently scooped her into a small storage container, lightly securing the lid as my daughter watched on. We went out into the front yard, which is devoid of grass, and instead planted with a diverse array of wildflowers, designed to host just such creatures as this...

A quick search last night on the internet confirmed my suspicions - praying mantids are indeed a symbol of good fortune. Should you encounter one, luck is coming your way. The fact that she entered my home, is as remarkable as it is auspicious. Mantids also carry great spiritual significance. In Greek, mantis means "prophet" or "seer" and "divination" - and connotes strong supernatural power. The praying mantis is seen as a spirit guide, that represents clear insight, inner wisdom, and intuition. And a force of change...

Before we returned our alien guest to my tangled garden, I showed her to a neighbor, who marveled at her form. Then we found a suitable coneflower and let her climb gingerly onto its drooping petals, where she patiently obliged one last parting shot.

So, what can we learn about the illusive mantids that stalk our lives, lurking in the shadows, hunting prey, and soothsaying spiritual growth and imminent change?

Praying mantids are ferocious predators, eating all the pesky invaders that homeowners curse - fruit flies, gnats, mosquitos, aphids, beetles, crickets, and wasps. And while they're considered highly beneficial to ecosystems by eating pests, mantids do also consume important pollinator species like moths, butterflies, caterpillars, and bees, as well as arthorpods in the soil. Some of the largest mantids (up to 4 inches long) have been known to eat small mammals, reptiles, and even birds!

Mantids are experts at camouflage, which helps them catch their prey (unless they're clinging to a painted wall in your foyer, in which case they rather stick out). As one of the largest insect predators in the world, their enormous bodies weigh too much to fly very far or very well. Although smaller males can and do fly, most females do not.

For hunting, they like to sit and wait for unsuspecting insects to enter the strike zone... Then they pounce, using strong fore legs to snatch the body and hold it down to eat their prey alive. Their powerful mouth parts are razor sharp, capable of piercing and cutting through tough exoskeletons of most insects. Their mouths can bite and slash in defensive combat, and they're also known to hiss when threatened or attacked.

Females are much larger than males, especially in their abdomens. Which is how I surmised our surprise guest was female... She was huge, at least two inches in length, her body cloaked in wings that looked like dry brown leaves. It is true that females like to consume their male mating partners after reproduction, but not always. Both genders have binocular vision, used in hunting. And they have fully articulated heads, which can swivel 180 degrees, using huge compound eyes to spot prey, while their antennae are used for smell.

Our Mantid guest might have retreated indoors after laying her eggs, attracted to the warmth of my living room as fall weather arrives, temperatures drop, and her life cycle draws to a close. Mantids do not form wings until their final molt, although some species do not have wings at all (or develop very small ones that are not capable of flight). Male mantids often fly at night and are attracted to artificial light.

After a female lays her eggs in the fall on a branch or twig, the egg mass is coated in a waddle of foam made of protein, which hardens into a protective casing so the eggs can survive over winter (and keep other predators from eating the eggs). In the spring, the ootheca (egg mass) will soften as temperatures warm, and nymphs emerge from their protective sheath. The life span of most mantids is 10-12 months, and in colder climates the females will die over winter.

Mantids are found all over the world, in habitats with mild winters and ample vegetation - in forests, park lands, agricultural settings, urban greenbelts, and suburbs. There are over 2,000 identified mantis species world-wide, mostly in Asia. With only 20 found in North America - most of which are the European species, Mantis religiosa, first discovered in the United States in 1899, and likely introduced by Atlantic trade routes.

They come in a range of colors, from brown to green. Although some species have bright colors and patterns on their wings. My house guest was likely the Mantis religiosa, the most common species found here in the Pacific Northwest, where they live in our gardens and suburban habitats (if we're so lucky) from mid-summer to mid-autumn.

I can't deny, finding a praying mantis clinging to my wall yesterday evening was exhilerating... A most unusual sighting, not only as a gardener and storyteller - but as a mother. You see, my daughter has a long history of attracting curious insects into our home, with an enchanting energy that captivates humans and animals alike. She radiates positive vibrations, and has loved animals ever since she was baby, much preferring her plush cuddlies and animal figurines over dolls and blocks.

When she was only one week old, my newborn lay tightly swaddled in a cradle in my living room, next to a tall window that is directly opposite the same wall where we found the mantis. As I gently unswaddled her body wrap, I gasped in disgust and shock as a small black centipede scurried out from the fabric, and across her belly. I had never seen a centipede in the house before, and was dismayed to find one crawling from inside her clothing, before quickly disappearing into the sheets, and onto the floor.

Despite my revulsion, I knew it was a powerful sign. And unusual - for I have never seen another centipede inside the house since. That day, I took it as an omen of good fortune, and decided that centipedes must be her spirit animal, sent to protect my beautiful little girl. I mean, it may sound corny, but it was more comforting than the alternative image of a nasty little bug inhabiting her swaddling and roaming her diapers - yuck.

Centipedes (unlike millipedes) are very fast walkers, and hard to catch because they scurry out of sight before you can scarcely react. And curiously, like praying mantids, they are also fierce predators who like to bite, injecting venom into their victims. They also squeeze their prey with powerful hind legs. They live under rocks, inside old logs, and dead wood, and in the soil... As such, they're often associated with decomposition and death, inhabiting the underworld, in hidden places - and representing the Afterlife.

So what in the world was this disgusting creature of death doing in my newborn's swaddle?

Although centipedes are associated with fears, phobias, and nightmares, they are also seen as bringers of good luck, energy, and healing medicine. They symbolize the confronting of fears, and finding strength and courage to face all that gives us worry and anxiety.

Hmmm....

Centipedes are arthropods, who prefer moist warm environments (like a baby's diaper, I suppose), and are most active at night. They have antennae, and many legs of course, and grow by shedding their entire exoskeletons, growing all new legs and bodies each time they molt. They are quite creepy critters - and I still shudder at the memory of it crawling over my newborn daughter's belly. An omen of change as I entered motherhood perhaps, bringing me the courage and confidence to face my fears of caring for such a helpless being?

And our praying mantis visitor from yesterday? I doubt we'll welcome one inside our home again, so I want to memorialize it with a story about beneficial insects and voracious predators that call our gardens home, and do our dirty work for us. After all, who doesn't hate mosquitos, gnats, and fruit flies?

It remains to be seen if the mantis myths hold true and good fortune is knocking on my door... but I'll keep you posted.