Every day, a photograph, a poem. Wandering in the grasslands, the shrub steppe, or anywhere, we often pause not only at wildflowers, but also to wonder at what is that clump — those clumps — of round dirt are? Look– they surround an obvious home of some critter, probably an insect who has pushed out dirt around its hole home. I just can’t help but take a photo of something so amazing. Each creature has their own way and own home. Amazing, isn’t it? And it could be a helpful beetle.
What’s underground?Sheri Edwards
Something living and digging
And spitting dirt clumps round.
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