Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

 When sitting out here I can not write steadily – nor do I care to.  So many things are going on around me that I must look up from my writing and watch them.  Once it was a large green measuring worm on the spiderwort.  Before making each advance, he would swing his stiffened body in all directions to find a suitable hold for the next move, which led me to wonder if they are blind, as his groping seemed so aimless.  I picked him up, much to his evident wrath, and placed him on the ground, where he remained, with his body pointed stiff + motionless, up in the air.  A half-hour later I chanced to look down; he was stiff in the same position, and still later, when I looked down, he had decided to move.  His progress, tho slow, was interesting to watch, as he used the utmost, and seemingly unnecessary caution before making each advance.  The entire territory within reach of his quivering swinging body had to be thouroughly examined several times, which was a tedious process.  A new foothold having been found suit-