Today I put some dead flowers in the compost–I was so happy to get flowers, I couldn’t let them go until they were pretty dead–and as I was dismantling them, I noticed an inchworm on the face of a wilting yellow flower. I wasn’t sure it was 100% alive, and I just stuck it in the container–flower, inchworm, and all.
A few minutes later, I walked past and found that the inchworm was most definitely alive.
The next time I walked by, it had inched its way to the very end of a cut-off stem that sticks out of the container, over the edge of the counter, and was holding on with its back legs and swiveling in circles, its whole body outstretched. I imagine it was trying to find a passing deer or shrub to take it to a more promising host.
I was going to heartlessly toss it in the compost bin in the parking lot, but now I feel guilty. I guess I’ll stop on the way and let it out on a bush. Give it a chance to turn into a moth or a butterfly or whatever it is. I suppose it deserves that, after surviving for nearly two weeks on cut flowers.