Bless the Maker and His Water

I’ve been reading a lot of Frank Herbert and shoveling a lot of manure these past couple days. So, I’ve been thinking a lot about worms. I’ve had a worm bin in my house for a year, and I’m proud to say, I admire them. A worm moves through the world one bite at a time. Every mouthful they take is one step forward, and every excrement is a recognizable unit of the recent past. For a worm, time is measured in well-flavored bite-sized ticks of the clock.

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