Saving the worms......

Last night, thank goodness,  it rained........and rained.....and rained. The garden, the grass, the sprouting seeds, the trees and bushes needed it.

This morning's sunrise, against a cloudless sky, was so very beautiful. The gardens, back and front, looked perky and thankful for the life-giving water. After sitting by the front window, watching the sunlight brighten the red blossom on one of my trees, I went to pick up the morning paper. 

I hadn't gone but a pace away from the garage doors when I spotted an earthworm, covered in grit, moving painfully slowly across the concrete. I gently picked it up. Then I spotted more. I gathered every worm I could find in my hand, went back in the house, and put them into a bowl and washed the grit off their bodies.

Not wanting to cause them further distress, using a soft paintbrush, I very carefully spread the worms on a sheet of tissue paper, then took them outside and placed them in one of my compost boxes, thinking, 'Hey, here you go, enjoy this swanky worm hotel.'

As I went back inside the house, I had a flashback to my youth, remembering the very day I started to save earthworms.  Here's that story. 

1948

Saving the worms

One Saturday, Mum and Dad planned to do some shopping in Market Jew Street in Penzance. As Jimmie was off early snaring rabbits in Bejowan Woods, with his friend, Ego James, I was left in charge of my little brother, 2 year old Charles. Charles was a handful, could never sit still, and was always poking around to see what he could find. As baby of the family, Charles, of course, could do no wrong and always got me into trouble.

When it was time for them to go, Mum gave us both a kiss, a piece of Cadbury’s chocolate to share, and headed off to the bus stop with Dad. We waved goodbye at the front gate and, as they turned the corner, we went to play in the back garden. The first thing we did was pick some goosegogs from the three gooseberry bushes, sat on the grass and ate them as fast as we could. They were sour but good. Really brill.

Suddenly, I felt a spot of rain. A huge black cloud covered the sun and, as I looked up to the sky, it began to pour cats and dogs. I took Charles’s hand, and we ran inside, closed the door and climbed on two kitchen chairs to watch the water running down the kitchen window. We shared our chocolate. The rain pelted down and we moaned that Mum and Dad would be back before the sun came out and we had our fill of goosegogs.

After a few minutes, though, the black cloud moved slowly across the sky and the bright yellow sun reappeared. The rain stopped. We went back out in the garden again, jumping over the puddles on the path. Charles bent over and picked up a worm that was swishing around in one of the puddles, then started finding more and more of them. He held one in his hand and looked sadly at me.

“Poor things.” I said, “They’re drowning. We mustn’t let them drown, Charles. Let’s save ‘em, let’s save ‘em all.” Charles’s eyes brightened. I went inside and got my Old Holborne tobacco tin, ripped up a sheet of yesterday’s newspaper and spread it inside the tin as a lining.  We searched over the puddles and collected every worm we found, put them on the newspaper to dry and then took them to a safer place in the garden.

When Mum and Dad came home from shopping, we told them what we had done. “That's great," said Dad, "they're ‘portant, you know, They keep my garden proper healthy. When the garden is healthy, that’s when my plants grow.” 

I have saved many hundreds of worms since that day.

At around 7:30, I went for a long walk across the open prairie, and collected another bagful of worms............and repeated the process.