Woolly, Woolly

Over the weekend, I determined to start readying the back yard for winter much earlier than usual. Unlike my super-organized (and retired) neighbours with their obsessive rows of squat, compact bags of leaves I seem always to be caught by surprise and have to deal with cracked plant pots, lone garden trowels and pale, withered hoses in the spring. One of the larger planters was extraordinarily heavy so I shunted it toward the garage ancient Egyptian-style a few paces at a time.

There was quite a bit of water inside – which I did not realize till I started all this – and as a huge slosh sounded I saw a woolly bear caterpillar shooting out on a wave exactly like he was at a water theme park. I stopped at once to help him, fishing him out, where he lay quite still looking for all the world like a drag queen’s [wet] false eyelash in my hand.  There was a warm, dry spot in the garden and I put him down amongst the leaves where he proceeded to gamely pull himself up and using each and every one of his green feet began a dignified exit, his hair now parted in the center like a barbershop quartet singer. Each foot was like a miniature plunger and the tiny suction cups opened and closed like a series of fists as he started on his way. Unbelievable. I really felt sort of privileged to have this encounter, absurd as that now sounds. This type of thing always fascinates me that every day when I am at work immersed in my own life and problems, all kinds of things are independently happening in my garden that I am totally oblivious to. It’s like a parallel universe that I am missing and only part of now and then.

When I’m in the garden it’s like another room in my house that I seldom visit – but would like to spend more time exploring. In springtime, discovering the first few baby toads is one of the most tender highlights of the season. My oldest son as a small boy used to collect snail shells and turn them upside down before announcing whether or not someone was “home.”

I’d much rather be hanging out with Things-That-Creep than being competitive about leaf bag amassing.