I wasn’t that keen on going out this morning but I decided that it wasn’t that bad and I would have the chance to take a new perspective. It’s raining, slowly, gently and steadily. Perfect for all growing things, except worms.
The sidewalk was strewn with worms escaping the water saturated soil. Most were fully extended hurrying to find a dry spot. But everywhere was wet, wet, wet.
I fought the impulse to scoop them up and bring them home with me to my compost heap. It is a trial effort going on in my garage inside a huge black garbage can. It could use some worms, I think, though it might be too wet there too. Worms are supposed to “process” compost like crazy, given the right conditions.
But I couldn’t bear the thought of them flinching and flailing when I picked them off of the sidewalk, their tiny little brains sensing impending doom. If I had had something to carry them in, I might have done it, this mission of intended mercy.
They will just have to fend for themselves this time…as they always do.