a lesson in cycles

it was snowing this morning, as you can see from the picture of your's truly. "but it is may," you say. "yes it is," i say. but this is springtime in the rocky mountains, it rains, it snows, it hails, and it is mostly sunny. but today it is a mix of rain and snow.

"kafka, my canine buddy, why the weather report?" you ask. well, even though it is snowing it still is spring. the majority of the snow has melted and the grass is starting to turn green. flowers are pushing up through the fetid soil, and living in that brown muck are earth worms. earth worms, the spring time's best friend. aerating the soil, eating the shit and pooping out compost. love those guys. they are on the side of everything good in this world. so i was distressed to see the genocide right outside my driveway this morning.

"genocide," you exclaim. "yes," I answer in the affirmative. all the way down the street were the dead carcasses of earth worms. the creepy crawlers were rinsed from their homes in the grass on the edge of the road and laid to rest right on the concrete where they were vulnerable to the earthworm flattening bottom of human shoes and car tires. it was like walking through a nightmare.

everywhere i turned there were the flattened bodies of the soil's buddies. most were smushed. some were still alive. wriggling and struggling to get back to a soft ground where they could burrow, eat, and poop in peace. but the curb is too high for an earthworm to climb. a few lucky earthworms were saved by the little one. when he would find one still vital and moving, he would pick it up and throw it back onto the grass. just think how many generations of earthworms he saved with each toss. but one six year only makes a difference to individuals. in the big picture, his kind actions don't mean diddly.

i continued walking through the apocalyptic landscape, careful not to do any damage to a night crawler that might be in my path. i was depressed and distressed. where is the sense in all of this loss of life? how could any deity allow this holocaust? i was feeling especially down and godless. we dropped off the little one at his school bus stop. i was a little proud of his life saving gestures. but it wasn't enough.

we turned to walk home. the snow coming down in those late spring gigantic flakes. my black fur completely covered in white. the smell of death everywhere. i will never forget that smell. even now it is wedged deep into my consciousness.

we were almost home. walking up the hill, head down, to keep the snowflakes out of my eyes. i noticed some movement up ahead. i raised my head to see what was going on. there were maybe 10 robins hanging out beside the road. they were eating the carcasses of the worms. they were having a great day. this is what they live for. they were singing in the snow. bouncing up and down. swoop down into the road. pick up breakfast and then back to the safe tree. sing some more, and then repeat. the worm's nightmare is the robin's gift.

i still felt bad for the dead earthworms. but i also felt joy for the robin's easy meal. and happiness for all the young robins who were going to get a huge breakfast this morning.

nothing except for my snow covered fur is black and white.