Caterpillar

Found a tiny caterpillar crawling on my hand while I was sitting on the train on my way home from work yesterday.

I must have brushed against a bush while walking to the station, and knocked the caterpillar off.

I felt quite sorry for the little thing.

It crawled endlessly up and down my fingers, occasionally raising its head and front legs in the air as though to say: “Where am I? Why is there nothing green around here for me to eat?”

I had ideas of keeping it on my hand until I got off the train and could find some suitable flora. It quite distracted me and I spent my train ride watching it as it traipsed up and down my hand. You can think about a lot of things while watching a little creature: what type of butterfly will this caterpillar turn into? Can it eat any greenery or does it have a preference for particular types? Imagine how Mom would react if she had a caterpillar on her hand (my mother has a worm phobia)… And so on. It was actually quite relaxing.

Of course, once I got off the train there was no greenery anywhere. I resolved to keep it on my hand a bit longer – until I got home, perhaps.

Alas, the caterpillar fell off my hand, never to be seen again, while I was in the supermarket getting ingredients for dinner.

Where would I get romantic caterpillar-saving notions from? I blame The Very Hungry Caterpillar.