Inching Along, Worm-like

Meditating surrounded by Mother Nature’s beauty can be enthralling for me. If I simply sit in one location in the woods for some length of time, opening my senses as much as possible, something will happen that captivates and teaches me another lesson about the wonders of the wild.

One summer morning I crossed my legs and sat to meditate in the woods. I set my boots to the side and began to settle. A gentle breeze floated through and a bird occasionally twittered. With my eyes at half mast I felt a calm overcome me.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I noted a bit of motion on one of my boots. I became absorbed by an inchworm slowly ascending the boot. The gait of this critter is fascinating to watch. It has three pairs of legs bunched together on each end of its body and a long, legless span in between. It moves by stretching out its front end, grabbing hold by the triple forefeet, lifting its hind end as it makes a big loop at its center, and planting the back feet. This loopy, contortionist-like stride is mesmerizing.

The inchworm is also called the spanworm, measuring worm, and looper. It’s the larva of the geometer (“earth measurer”) moth. (I learned these things later, wanting to understand more about what I had observed.) As I watched this one climb, I almost instinctively counted the number of loops it made—as if getting an inchworm’s measure of the height of my boots. I became fully absorbed in its progress. Did it think that it was climbing a tree trunk, looking forward to having leaves to munch? “My, what smooth bark this is!” I waited for it to reach the leafless top of my boot. What would it do then?

Having finally attained the boot summit, the worm paused a moment, and then inched around the rim. When it reached the opposite side—at the final outpost of its bizarre tree—its front end waved back and forth in space, as if seeking something to latch onto. But having come to the end of the line, the inchworm looped its way back around the other side of the boot and eventually—after a couple more fruitless attempts at finding leaves—descended boot hill.

I don’t know how long I watched the little lesson unfold. I was so absorbed that time’s passage had lost meaning for me. If I’m patient when outside, Mother Nature will invariably gift me with a display of her wonders. The treat can come through any of the senses: watching, listening, smelling, feeling. She has so much to teach, if only I slow down and pay her attention.