While working on this writing, I was forced to change the subject by the arrival of a small but noticeable guest. A tiny inchworm, much smaller than an inch, had entered the human realm of keyboard and mousepad.
How the little being arrived into my world I can only guess. Maybe I brushed past a leaf on my daily walk and he hitched a ride, or perhaps on the silken strands they spin to escape predators. Feather light and nearly invisible, I can only imagine where the inchworm fits on the food chain.
These little guys are determined yet cautious, testing the next step with their front legs whilst anchored to safety with their back. They instinctively sway back and forth because this strategy maximizes their chances of finding the next step.
The inchworm is not a worm at all but a caterpillar of the family Geometridae. In other countries the inchworm is called a spanworm, which I find quite cool as names go. After spending most of its life finding and eating leaves the Geometrid caterpillar morphs into the Geometrid moth. Worldwide there is an astonishing 35000 species of Geometers. They must be doing something right.
But what to do about my tiny not-yet-a-moth intruder? I want to take him back to his world, yet he will not go upon my finger sensing something large and strange. I finally coax him onto a piece of paper and bring him to the front hedge. I place him on a leaf and wish him the best. It’s a hard world out there little geometer guy.
Did this encounter have any meaning in the larger context? It seems so introspective that I wonder why I have taken the time to record it. I guess it’s because life on the planet is so complex — as is our relation to it Would I have taken equal time and care to capture a cockroach and place it back in its habitat? Very likely not as we humans see roaches in some way as competitors to our way of life; pests to be eliminated.
But the fragile inchworm is merely a fellow traveler along the ribbon of time and space. Our forbearance calls out in the wind and is answered.
whoisfenton 