Hop away

After I pulled into my driveway, I swung my car door open wide. It almost hit our big butterfly bush.

By pure happenstance, I happened to notice a thing that had spent its whole life trying not to be noticed — a grasshopper happily munching away on the shrub (instead of "on the shrub" I had originally written "on my bush" but decided that sounded dirty. So instead of just moving on, I'm using this parenthetical note to point out that I'm a dirty thinker — which now seems to sad and kinda desperate.).
I pulled out my camera and tried to snap a few macro shots before it got indigestion and hopped away.

While I was trying to get the camera to focus on the tiny insect in the bright daylight using a digital screen that I couldn't see, I started wondering what was going through that little grasshopper's head.

When I first noticed him, he was eating. The longer I stood there and the closer the camera got, the slower he chewed until he stopped and focused his full attention on the camera.

Then I was done and I walked away.

Did he just go back to his lunch? Or did he start worrying about what that thing was and what it could have possibly done to him?

Does he now fear that I've irradiated his little grasshopper body causing malignant tumors to start growing on his exoskeleton?

Does he think he had a close encounter with an unidentified metal box?

Does he think that a big, square bird tried to eat him until the giant, blond thing jammed it back into her purse?

I hope I didn't irritate his acid reflux.