With the rain, comes the worms. I love seeing them out and about, looking for love. Unearthed, as it were. (And with only the rain, and no other grunters, to call them forth.) As I stepped delicately down the driveway, to avoid squashing any lovelorn nematodes, I recalled that a teaspoon of soil might contain from 100 million to 1 billion bacteria, several yards of fungi, and several thousand protozoa, or that Veronica Woodruff is loath to empty a bucket of river water onto the ground, knowing that it contains so much invisible life.

What do we do about this abundance of invisible life, and our likely destruction of it, with every single step we take? Stay home? Lock ourselves away? Or dive deeper into the great swirl of our interconnectedness, with thanks and wonder and awe and hope that we nurture more than we damage.