DAY 677. Yesterday the dog stopped eating because a hornworm caterpillar was crawling a yard away from her bowl. She barked at it like it was a rattlesnake. I tried to tell her it was just a caterpillar, but she was still wary. In her defense, the thing was as thick as my thumb and double the length. An Achemon sphinx caterpillar. . I made a movie of it crawling up the door frame of the studio. Then it crawled in between the door and the door jam and I had to encourage it not to pick that spot for reasons of death by getting squashed. . An hour later I discovered that that same psychedelically decorated caterpillar had crawled — no, inched (see how slow this guy moves @breafisher)— 20 feet across the yard to the house, where I found it hanging out on the wall when I was doing the hummingbird feeder rounds. . Later that night as I was about to get into bed, the dog barked again. I looked out the front window and saw her serious and on guard, out from under the porch, standing in the rain, barking at the ground below me. And there he was again, that crazy one-eye painted worm, curled up right where her head had been flopped down on a rock just a minute before. Like all he was trying to do to pass the drizzly summer night snuggled up with a warm, cozy beast. . Tonight I was doing the dishes and heard a flapping at the window. Sounded like a bird it was so loud. It was a massive moth with wings like brown autumn leaves on the ground, dashed with a pale pink across the middle sweep of each one. Achemon sphinx moth. . Maybe next summer, after my dog’s worm friend burrows underground and turns pupa for the winter, I’ll see another one of those mystical moths, and wonder if it was that same guy from yesterday. . This is Windmill Palm. A little Gongfu in Taiji speed.