A member of the order Mantodea, there are approximately 1800 species of praying mantis, spread all over the world. The praying mantis is so-called because the ancient Greek name is the mantis; and the praying because its forelegs are held in such a position that it looks like it's praying. Actually the forelegs are used for capturing insects, and they have tiny spikes on them.

Praying mantises are pretty vicious little killers -- at full size they're usually about 7 to 12cm long (that's 2.5 to 3.5 inches for our American friends). They're pretty long and spindly, and they move incredibly slowly when approaching prey. It will then, at lightning speed, grab its prey with its forelegs, rip its head off, and eat it (it's easier that way, the insect struggles less). They are also cannibalistic -- both among developing praying mantises and most famously among adults during copulation. The female during copulation frequently rips the male's head off and proceeds to eat him. This does not always happen, but it does happen quite frequently -- it depends exactly how quick the male is ;-).

They have a lifespan of a little under a year. The female lays eggs in egg cases (called ootheca) with about 70 eggs before winter, dies and then they hatch in spring. The immature mantises don't go through a larval stage; rather they go through about 12 moultings. The females if they can't get a male (I wonder why the males wouldn't be interested) can actually produce eggs through parthenogenesis, but all the offspring are female.

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There are also a number of other things named after the praying mantis; most notably a style of kung fu, distinguished by a mixture of slow and sudden rapid movements. If you've ever watched the character Lion in the game Virtua Fighter 3, you'll know what this looks like. They actually hold their hands in a position similar to a praying mantis.

There is also a British rock band called praying mantis.

I love praying mantises and it's a good thing I do because they love my yard!

My large patch of lemon balm outgrew its bounds and spilled over the sidewalk so much I decided to trim it back. This involved not only cutting down huge piles of the herb but a major praying mantis relocation program. I captured and moved to other areas at least 3 dozen of them.

One of the refugees took up residence in a large flower planter on my front porch. She was looking a little thin so I thought I'd provide a free and easy meal. I captured a worm and dangled it in front of her. She reared back and practically fell off the leaf. Praying mantises apparently don't encounter worms in real life. Maybe it looked like a predatory snake.

I just found the first egg case for next year's generation. Praying mantis lay foam around a twig branch that hardens into a golf ball sized mass full of eggs. The young hatch in the spring, the elders die off in the fall or early winter. The males often die at the moment of copulation as the female turns around and eats their head. Praying mantids have this amazing Exorcist type head action, they can turn their weirdly triangular heads almost the whole 180 degrees from front to back. The females die a short while after laying the eggs.

They are wonderful insects to have around as they eat other insects. They are unfortunately non selective and will eat beneficial insects (like lady bugs and sibling mantids) too but overall I think they help keep the harmful insect population in check.

They make great "pets". Kept in an aquarium with plenty of live prey like crickets and moths they will live a full natural life cycle. They also need some plant material to climb on, and lay eggs on. They do lay eggs in captivity. They also need a natural light & dark cycle. They are easily injured with handling and do cling and bite so don't let small children or fearful adults handle them. They can be trained to take live food from a trainer's hand but sometimes miss and nip a live finger instead.

My resident praying mantis population is one of the many reasons I don't use insecticides as a rule. If I poison a "bad" bug and a praying mantis eats it the mantis will die too.

I heard a small commotion next to the old whiskey barrel holding basil and tarragon. I crept over, expecting to find a small mammal, maybe a vole. As I knelt to get a closer look, I saw a large praying mantis hanging upside down, an unusual position, at least for the mantises that live in my garden.

I followed the mantis' gaze down through the forest of mint that grew near the barrel. In the aromatic shadows, a garter snake lay poised to strike. The snake lunged, the mantis struck back, Jackie Chan against the giant serpent. The snake fell back, but did not leave. Again it set to strike, and the mantis cocked its head with the steady grace of an aging dancer. Another flash of movement, again the snake quickly repelled.

The snake started to rise again, and then slowly, as though accepting defeat, lowered its head and slowly slithered away.

Praying mantises can scoot, and if particularly perturbed, can even take flight. This one held her ground. Maybe its a praying mantis trait, taking umbrage at hungry garter snakes. Maybe it was peculiar to the mantis in my garden that day. No way to know.

When the snake had gone, the mantis straightened herself back to her usual position, head up, legs folded in front; she regarded me for a moment, her head slowly moving through an impossible angle, then apparently dismissed me as harmless as she went about her business.

In my days in my backyard I have seen a dragonfly merge from its nymph shell, only to die an hour or so later next to its casing. I have seen a lightning bug successfully woo her mate as the two exchanged brilliant flashes, she half-hidden on a brandywine tomato vine, he drawing out a "J" in flight with each flash (perhaps her name was Juliet?). My children regard me as a little odd, "But it's OK, Dad, you're odd in a good way...."

On warm, sunny days, my adult daughter sometimes spends hours staring at the life on the edge of a pond, just for the sheer joy of it. It is one of the few times I allow myself to believe I was a competent parent.

I'm at work. I am running around outside like a maniac giving seven year old Avery a piggyback ride.

We find a huge praying mantis.
I am a nerd, so I decide this is an excellent time for a science lesson. This is what is sounds like to Avery:

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah...
...and then after they mate, she eats him."

Avery ponders the perils of praying mantis romance for a very long time. Finally, she says, "If I was a praying mantis boy, I would marry a vegetarian."