The Very Dead Caterpillar

If you head up American Fork Canyon in Utah, zig and zag, and zig again, you will find yourself at Cascade Springs, a little gem tucked into the Wasatch Mountains where verdant paths meander, merging at certain points with boardwalks that hover so close above the flowing, frothing springs as to overwhelm its visitors with joy.  Such was the case with our little live-wire, Julia.  Mother Nature had smiled approvingly on the scene before her, and it made Julia want to jump.

It was exuberance that Monster drinkers aspire to, elation reserved usually for Powerball winners.  Were she British and a poet she would have penned lines bursting with descriptions of the mountains, the wild flowers, the fish darting in unclouded water, but she was American and still in diapers and so she jumped and jumped and jumped, until she fell in.

This was unexpected, cold and unexpected, and for a moment her exuberance took a tumble. 

But who—even sopping wet—could stay gloomy for long surrounded by such beauty!  Swapping wet toddler clothes for an adult-sized pullover, it wasn’t long before Julia was back in business—jumping, running, rejoicing.  She was pleased by all she saw, tickled pink by its perfection, particularly when while scampering along she noticed a caterpillar.

Fat as her father’s index finger, the caterpillar had inched his way to the center of the path, making it easy for a nature lover, such as our girl, to notice.  Julia’s jumping stopped. 

This was something to inspect!

She leaned toward the caterpillar, noticing the spectrum of colors arrayed in its fuzzy, tube-like body—deep red and yellow, a hint of neon green, a splash of indigo.  It shimmered as it inched, glistened as it wriggled.  The Electric Light Parade at Disney was dull by comparison.

This was something to admire!

Others came to see what this astute little observer had discovered, and soon a circle comprised of old and young surrounded the caterpillar.  A hum of oohs and awes filled the air.  This was a thing of wonder, a sight to behold, a masterful creation, the answer to all of life’s mysteries!

No, thought Julia, this was something to step on.

And so she did.

Stomp went her little shoe, splat went the caterpillar, and somberly silent the oohs and awes.  The ensuing funeral was short and sweet.  Julia’s giggles were the requiem, and she paid her last respects by stomping once more.  For who could stay gloomy when surrounded by such beauty!  Not our girl!  And so off she went, jumping, giggling, and running, to observe (and possibly destroy) the many wonders to be found at Cascade Springs.