by Sarah Tobias
Worm was sound asleep deep in the
soil when he was awakened by a poke.
“Who’s there?” he asked, but no
one answered so he curled back up when . . .
Poke . . .
Poke.
“Hey!” he yelled in his tiny
little voice. “Stop poking me, I’m trying to sleep though winter.
Worm moved a little deeper in
the soil, curled up, and was almost asleep when . . .
POKE!
Worm couldn’t see a thing,
but he had tiny bristles all along his body that worked almost as well as eyes
so he began to investigate. He headed up and discovered that the thing that was
poking him was long and slender, soft and fresh. Up, up, up he went, the soil
and the slender thing getting cooler as he went until he bumped head first into
a big clump of long slender things. He pushed and twisted his way around and out
of the soil and onto it.
“Hmm,” he said out loud to no
one, “The earth smells green.” And then, “What’s green?”
“It’s a color,” said a bee as it
buzzed over the worm. Can’t you see that spring is here?”
“No, I can’t see, I don’t have
eyes,” replied the worm.
“Oh, sorry,” the bee buzzed. “I didn’t
know.”
“Would you be my eyes?” asked the
worm.
“No time. The Queen does not like
us dilly dallying around. Gotta go.” Off the bee buzzed, the vibration of the
wings tickling every hair on worm’s body.
Worm was starting to get warm and
feeling a bit dry, so he crawled under some leaves and started to eat.
Something landed on the leaf over
his back.
“Ooh!” he quivered and wiggled out
from under the leaf.
A butterfly flapped her wings and
turned to look down at worm.
“So sorry. I didn’t see you
there. I was too busy tasting the flowers.
“Flowers?” asked worm.
“Oh yes, they are quite beautiful
and filled with a delicious juice. Look up. They are blue and green and pink
and yellow and . . . Butterfly ran out of breath.
“I can’t see,” said worm.
“I didn’t realize.”
“Do you have time to tell me more?”
“I’d love to as long as you don’t
mind if I drink along the way.”
“Not at all. I hope you don’t
mind if I eat?”
Butterfly didn’t mind and she flew
up to a bunch of flowers.
“This flower is blue and a little
bit pink. You know when the sun shines and you feel kind of hot? Well, that’s
yellow – bright yellow – squint your eyes yellow. Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to
offend you.”
“That’s OK, I know you didn’t
mean anything mean, but I understand what you said, Hot means dry and I head
for cover – so that’s yellow. But what ‘s blue?”
“Well, when a cloud floats in front
of the sun, you can see the sky is a beautiful blue. It’s bright and cooling. Like
a breeze.”
“Oh, I know blue – it’s when my
bristles are tickled by the wind.”
“Yes, these flowers are the color
of the breeze tickling your bristles.”
“Then what is pink?” worm asked.
“Pink is soft and gentle.”
“Like when I meander through the
grass.”
“Sure,” replied butterfly, who
wasn’t sure at all.
“Tell me more.”
“Well, there are a bunch of
flowers and they droop like dresses hanging and dangling in the wind.”
“Like dresses?”
“I don’t know either,” said butterfly.
“That’s just what came to me.
“Oh,” replied worm. Kind of like
how I know green – I just know.”
“Yes!” exclaimed butterfly.
Butterfly was busily drinking
nectar and worm got hot and bored. He wriggled down into the leaves and was
thinking about going deeper into the soil when he bumped into a new plant.
“Hey,” he called. “What’s this?
It feels different that the other flower you were talking about.”
Butterfly flew down into the
tangle of plants.
“Pee eww! I don’t know, but it
smells yucky.”
Just then a fly flew down. “I don’t
think it smells so bad.” And the fly disappeared into the flower.
“Yum—mmmmmmmmmm hum—mmmmmm” went
the fly and then there was no sound at all.
“The flower ate the fly!” cried
worm. With courage he didn’t know he had, he wriggled over to the flower, lifted
up on his back end and leaned into the flower.
“Fly, fly are you OK?”
“Grunt, hum-mm, buzz, what? Oh,
sorry, I fell asleep. That’s tasty pollen and it’s nice and warm in here. I bet
there’s more pollen in other flowers.” And off flew fly.
An army of ants marched up.
“Are they ready yet?” asked the
head ant.
“Are what ready yet?” responded
worm.
“The seeds. They make good
eating.”
“Oh, I don’t know, fly just said
the pollen tasted good.”
“Not ready then.” The ants marched
off.
“Yummy!” came the distant sound
of butterfly.
“What?” called worm. “What is it?”
“It’s shiny bright yellow.”
“Be careful – Hot! Hot! Hot!”
exclaimed worm.
“It’s that kind of color, but not
hot. It’s like butter, shiny and smooth, almost slippery.”
Before butterfly could taste more
nectar, a big bumble bee buzzed in and bumped butterfly out of the way.
“Oh, look!” cried butterfly flitting
over to a tall stand of lavender flowers. Out came her proboscis and she began
to drink. “Hum-mmmm.”
“What is it asked worm?”
Iths pupple.” Mumbled butterfly
not even stopping to roll up her tongue.
“Pupple?”
Butterfly stopped drinking for a
moment. “Purple, light lovely purple. It’s the best! The tastiest color. So
many flowers. I have to go worm. I’m really hungry.” Without another word,
butterfly flew to the next flower and drank and drank and drank.
“Purple – tastiest color ever.” Worm
thought for a moment and said to on one in particular, “Like the soil. Purple
is the soil.” With that worm wiggled down into the cool dark earth and he ate
and ate and ate.
