Adventures with worms
A N D O T H E R C R E E P Y C R AW L I E S
©SAMANTHA’S STUDIO - STOCK.ADOBE.COM
Written by Claire Daly
M
y daughter likes to hold wriggling worms in her bare hands. I writhe inside, struggling with my own biophobia, a term to describe a fear of the outdoors, the biological, the natural. Soil, bugs, spiders, all that. When I do the weeding it is quite useful to have Rose on worm-patrol. For ages we neglected our front garden because we don’t have a gate on it, but she is so entranced by the earth that she has never once strayed. She is learning patience,
made SEP / OCT 2018
watching for worms to crawl out of holes in the ground, until, unsuspecting, they are wrenched from their earthy home and played with. “Ooh, little baby worm,” Rose coos. “What’s it doing?” she asks as it heaves to and fro, as much as a baby worm can heave, in the grip of two toddler fingers. It might be trying to escape, I say, maybe it wants some earth, so she puts some earth in her hands too. The worm is released from her grasp.
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