I had a wheelbarrow in hand. A cluster of some 15 Lilly-Pilly (Syzygium australe) seedlings had grown 15cm high at the base of the water basin (Chouzubachi), nurtured by a constant overflow of water. Perfect conditions: the young cotyledon plants nourished by an accumulation of gravel and organic matter from wind-blown debris. I eat the juicy berries in early summer, after the flowers; don’t you? Remember to spit the seeds out.

I grabbed two 20cm pots from the discard pile and made my way with the barrow towards the soil bay near the back gateway. Suddenly I saw a black cricket hopping from one corner to another in the barrow. 

Not a good time to pot-up, during the heat, is it? I just couldn’t waste the seedlings, each capable of 15 metres height in growth. And don’t forget the berries.

And now this cricket with his frantic carry-on. He was afraid of me. He should be. I could squash him to the count of three.

At 30mm long, he is a field cricket, common garden variety, pitch black with a segmented patchwork design on his folded wings. The forewings are membranous, the right wing (tegmen) overlapping the left. (In Grasshoppers it is the opposite). The legs (tarsi) are in three segments. He has stridulatory files on the side of his abdomen and hind leg. He uses these to make those familiar ‘sing out’ sounds for his mate. Rather romantic isn’t it? At home I hear them at night like one big courting fraternity.

He is likely in the genus Teleogryllus which has 700 species. At once I tipped the barrow over to let him go. Immediately I felt wise and big-hearted. After all, if you grew up watching the Walt Disney show every Sunday night, you couldn’t hurt Jiminy Cricket: not if you wanted your dreams to come true.