This Poem was written by Saryn Knox as a final project for one of BMSC’s recent workshops – Science Communication for an Ever-Changing World with instructor Niki Wilson.
A mix of science and art, this poem explores a common but fascinating inhabitant of our backyard, the Banana Slug
Poem, images, and recording all by Saryn Knox.
Listen to the poem here:
All that would matter,
that day,
was the slug,
seen on a mossy stoop
spotted on my forest loop.
Come a little closer!
Have a look!
See what you mistook
for a fragment of foliage on the floor
of the understory
you thought you’d read before.
There she is!
Ariolimax columbianus,
her skin akin
to that banana you claim
you’ll bake into bread
before it decays
like the many things
that stay out of sight,
gone off, gone sour,
lost to the night.
Pneumostome agape she gasps
breathing the earthen moss-air
into the softness of her body
never lifting her furrowed mouth from her plate
so attentive to the consumption of her fresh mushroom dinner.
A deviation from her usual dish:
scraps others leave behind,
things we mark as past their time,
growth so easily ignored among the forest’s floor,
life which has ceased to breathe anymore.
All manner of matter matters to her,
her chitinous radula
scrapping like a spatula,
nibbling whatever she can find
that we have left behind.
Just imagine the microbiome she must need
to consume that mishmash of matter
on which she continues to feed!
Consider them too, the tiny tenants we so often neglect,
whose imperceptible work has massive effect.
Truly without them, what would we do?
There really is nothing microbes don’t help us through.
So consumed by my looking, and thoughts that ensue,
that I am taken aback
by the swift tentacular sweep
as her own curious eyes leap.
Attention reversed,
who looks at who now?
Her eyes roving and searching,
gazing up at me,
looking for something
I rarely see.
What can we learn just by looking?
I can see her puzzlement now:
What does she chew on?
What consumes her at night?
What matter matters most to her?
What decays her light?
Her look has intention,
curiosity run free,
in this one moment
she matters to me,
the slug eating the mushroom so delicately.
That day,
all that mattered,
was the mutual looking,
of a slug and a girl.
Because by looking,
and looking,
and looking again,
we learn to love the world
(when slugs are our friends).
So, at last I will ask you,
attention again reversed,
and finally I will say the idea rehearsed.
What does it mean to truly look, and see what is there?
This simple practice, is all it takes to care.
