We all have our little foibles . . . one of mine is to pick up earth worms when they are on a mission to cross(very slowly) tarmac roads. I hate to see their squished little bodies as they have attempted - not sure why - to reach a different patch of muddy verge. There must be a reason? Perhaps the rain gives them a feeling of wild freedom; an easier way to cross without risk of drying up on their unknown-to-us plans of reaching the other side.
I just consulted uncle Google about worm behaviours and bodily functions. According various research studies, worms do feel pain, have short term memories - obviously not about road crossing - and have five hearts in their relatively simple blood circuits. Maybe this is just one type of worm; I didn't get any further because as usual I got sidetracked by the increasingly mad questions . . . "What do worms not have?" Answer: "Arms and legs" . . . "Do they eat food?" "Yes. And they like moisture. If they don't have these things, they go somewhere else." Somewhere else. I see.
it was a worm-karma day yesterday; very dank, not actually raining but it had been. Suicidal worms were out in force, ambling - without arms and legs - across all roads I walked down - admittedly quiet roads, but several had already met their demise from the odd passing car or tractor. The dog stood patiently, writing notes in her head about my increasingly odd behaviour, while I found the right, flat stick. The rescue can be done with fingers but the wriggling body, presumably assuming it's about to be devoured by a crow or similar predator is tricky to pick up. On the walk, I rescued around twenty-five worms of various sizes, adding, hopefully to future happiness in life or next lives. On entering the house, I made tea, gave the dog a 'chewy stick' reward and sat for a minute or two thinking about how those worms would be happily burrowing around in the bit of field they had been heading towards - I always place them on the grass/mud that appears to be the chosen destination. Or, perhaps they were silently furious about being whisked away from a crossing the road-dare, or the pure excitement of wading around on a wet tarmac surface. New research study, anyone?
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