Last night, I found some kind of cute gray and baby blue worm that is attached to some kind of cocoon crawling on the bathtub. I caught it on a sheet of paper and took it into the kitchen where my Grandmother was working on a wordfind. She reached for her magnifying glass to take a closer look.
I was going to take it outside to let it fend for itself, but she said, "Well, do you want to put it under something and watch it do whatever it has planned next?" She suggested a mesh sieve, but it didn't work, so we settled on a small glass turned upside down. Before going to bed, she reported that it had climbed to the top of the glass and was waiting there.
This morning, I came back from my walk to find that she had added three pieces of cat food for it to "nibble on." Later came another report that it had climbed over the pieces of food and maybe eaten something. At lunch, she pointed out the newest addition to the habitat: a tiny branch with ball moss in case it wanted to hang and finish developing the cocoon.
I taught with a past retirement age woman in China one semester who taught me about childlike wonder when she took joy in spring. Mimi is taking me back there again.