The climb seemed to be endless. How was it possible for any of his ancestors to climb this green monster? For years he heard stories. Of the beautiful end of this journey, of longing and loving. Of finally understanding what it is all about. Maybe it would enlighten him, maybe he would take some wisdom back to his friends, family, his partner.

But is all this struggle really worth it? Endlessly marching on, 90 degrees towards the sky? Holding onto this small stem, with all his powers. Is there no better way to spend his youth? He is in the prime shape of life, the best it will ever be. And where is he? Stuck with marching onwards. There is no one telling him to keep marching but the promises of what might happen if he will.

There is a plain coming toward him. He can see it more clearly now. Is this the end of his journey?

With the last power in his 6 legs, he continues to hang onto the stem. the plain gives up a bit under his weight. He is now hanging upside-down, watching the abyss beneath him. He could give up. He could just let himself drop down. For sure, his wings would work. They always did, always ready to be deployed.

He looks up further. It is time to finally find out, what he has been promised.

He climbs the edge of the plain, getting onto it. The sunlight hits his face. He is blinded, unconscious of what is happening. But it is warm, comforting. As soon as he is able to look further, he can see. Other bugs, sitting on leaves. Enjoying the sun, enjoying the the first warmth and the rest from their journey. He can feel that it has been worth it, the way up seems to be effortless now. Even going down; it’s just a fall.