Like many things in the garden, my pomegranate has started to bloom in earnest, for what that is worth. After making a meal out of the thick leathery sepals of a bud, this katydid nymph dove in for a dessert of the softer petals and reproductive parts. I can only hope a moment's satiation (not higher intelligence formulating a plan of further conquest) pauses the eating machine as he or she poses atop the spoiled, never-to-bloom flower.
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