So this is where my captured cutworms go before they go ‘away’.  The rock.  It sits in the middle of the birdbath in my back yard, completely surrounded by water. There is no easy way of escape from this rock. The Robins and Stellar’s Jays and sparrows and Starlings use it daily. The crows sit patiently atop it while they wait for nuggets of dry dog kibble to soften in the water. They steal this kibble from Oscar next door almost daily and then fly over to my place to soak it until they can eat it.

Imagine their delight when they find a bunch of fat, wriggling larvae sitting atop the rock, just waiting for their arrival. I like to think of this as a win-win-win situation; I win, the birds win, the plants win.  But if I am to be technically accurate in my use of terms, I suppose it better to describe this sacrificial alter as the place of win-win-win-lose. 

This then is where my garden’s cutworms go to be ‘repurposed’, where they go to be transformed into sinew and bone and feather . . . into the very wings of flight.