a few words about miss chelsea elizabeth...

she likes: making kites, dancing in the rain, adventures, little-while friends, letters, whole-leaf tea, crayons, bare feet, jumping in rivers/streams/creeks/waterfalls, language, catching the clock as it changes numbers, sleepovers, trains (big or small), cuddling & waking up before the sun rises, among other random things.

oregon-born, seattle-raised, bellingham-bred and franco-refined, she had moved back to the states from her affairs across the atlantic & now resides in columbia city with french husband & love of her life rémy. they spend most of their time taming the garden, taking care of their three chickens & two cats, and preparing the urban homestead for a new little chick of their own.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

i/d rather not.

so today on my way to work, i/m not sure why, i started thinking about worms. i was walking along, looking at the post-rain ground & thinking to myself "i haven/t seen a single worm since being in france...i wonder if they exist here?" which then became quite a silly question, but how should i know? they/ve never heard of chipmunks or cranberries, either, so it seemed like a valid thing to want to know.

"jeez, i can/t even remember the last time i saw a worm," i thought. "total lie. you remember. freshman year on the way to/from omega, that cement walkway up the hill. after a fresh rain it would be swarming with worms, half-dead, struggling to be somewhere other than the pavement." i would always try to move them from the sidewalk to the dirt, even the dead half-squashed ones. it was so so sad to see them squirming there, totally defenseless.

funny thing, life. i saw two worms after that, one on my way to work, one on my way home. both incredibly tiny. both incredibly dried out (despite the layer of wet on the ground). and both incredibly dead. after wanting so badly to see a worm, to pick it up & feel it wriggle between my fingers, to leave traces of slime & dirt deep under my nails, after seeing the two dead ones, i quickly changed my mind. i/d rather not have seen those two dried up corpses. i/d rather have gone on longing.

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