Look who I found this morning, inching circles around the top of my toy Slinky. Around and around she went, measuring the endless loops, no doubt wondering where it was taking her and when it would all end... Hey, didn't I just pass this way? Hey, didn't I just pass this way? Hey, didn't I just pass this way?
I think she came in on a bushel of flowers some friends brought me from their amazing garden in Elk. How strange for her to have moved from that beautiful bundle of nature to the cold, steel modernity of the Slinky. I question her choice, I really do.
Maybe she questions her choice, too. And maybe she likewise wonders why a grown woman still owns a Slinky. And Silly Putty. And crayons. And two yo-yo's. Well, if I wasn't a kid at heart, this inchworm wouldn't have had a Slinky to measure in the first place. See? A Slinky, like inchworms and the universe, always comes full circle.