Yesterday I saved a grasshopper in the pool. It could not push its legs against the water to fly, so I scooped it out with my hat and placed it on the rough concrete. While I did my laps, I watched it drying out, moving its wings and flicking its antennae. It took more than a half hour and I was toweling myself when it moved, one leg at a time across the cement and then pushed. Like me sometimes, struggling to exercise my stiff joints, there was little grace in its movement. But move it did and then sprang to a shady bush. I would like to be that grasshopper, saved by grace and given another chance to live in the summer sun.