COLUMN: Asian Jumping Worms

Welp, that was a fun outdoors season, 2022. I guess we'll give it another shot next year.

For me, spring is magical for exactly however many days it takes to spot my first bee of the season. From then on, you can find me indoors patiently waiting for first frost. Sadly, yesterday I stepped out of my car only to be immediately dive-bombed by some stupid bee. I'd love to tell you I played it cool. I'd love to tell you I didn't make a noise like "nyaaaaaaahh" while fleeing. I'd love to tell you I'm not an idiot.

I hate bugs and snakes and spiders and toads and, well, pretty much anything that roams the earth other than (a) cats, (b) a select number of dogs, and (c) an even more select number of human beings. I realize that creepy crawlies are a vital part of our ecosystem and usually have no interest in people whatsoever. I don't care. Nature is majestic and breathtaking and a wonder to behold, and that's why God put windshields on my car so I can see it from a climate-controlled habitat. Two years ago, I discovered I'd been unknowingly co-existing most of the year with a massive wasp nest on the side of my house. I still feel violated.

Every year, there's some new nature panic thrust upon us. It might be ticks and mosquitos carrying a variety of assorted cooties. The next year, it's cicadas that only come 'round every 17 years. Then it's murder hornets. Well, I just read about this year's plague, and it sounds delightful.

Just when you thought it was safe to step outside, I give you: amynthas agrestis, aka the ASIAN JUMPING WORM, this year's invasive threat du jour. They're expected to be in fifteen U.S. states this year, including Illinois and Iowa. Can't wait. 

Scientists and ecologists have been worried about Asian jumping worms for some time due to their overconsumption of leaf litter and ability to disrupt the growth cycle of seedlings and wildflowers. I'm worried about Asian jumping worms because of the word JUMPING. Until now, worms and I have lived peacefully in a symbiotic detente wherein I promise not to step outside at 5 a.m. to smoosh them and in return, THEY NEVER LEARN HOW TO JUMP. Someone just broke their contract.

Truth be told, jumping worms can't actually jump. According to experts at Cornell University, they got their name "from their tendency to thrash about when touched." Neat. As difficult as it will be to resist my natural urge to pet as many worms as possible, I guess I'll just have to learn self-control this year.  

The same article says you can easily spot Asian jumping worms by "looking for their milky white clitellums," which most certainly sounds like something you should be jailed for. I have an extensive and rigorously tested list of enjoyable time-wasting activities in my life, but examining worm clitellums has sadly never made the cut. 

Apparently Asian jumping worms also leave behind a tell-tale sign: "Upon infestation, the surrounding ground will appear grainy." Wanna know why? Because you're no longer looking at dirt; you're looking at worm poo. That's right, one adult jumping worm eats 2-3 times their body weight in soil every day and, erm, deposits it right back from whence it came as what scientists politely call "castings." The politeness of scientists is likely also the only reason we don't call these things "Asian pooping worms."

The GOOD news is that if your yard has become infested with these terrors, there's a solution (literally). The Alleghany Front recommends that you simply spritz your yard with a "mustard solution." Apparently the mustard irritates jumping worms and "helps bring them to the surface for picking." Wait, so the mustard doesn't even kill these things? It just MAKES THEM MAD? So now I'll have a yard full of angry thrashing poop monsters that I'm expected to harvest AND I'm also now out of mustard? I still have to TOUCH these unholy things and not even get to enjoy a tangy charcuterie board afterwards? Hard pass.

But here's the creepiest bit: According to EVERY article I just skimmed, the best way to rid your yard of Asian jumping worms is to gather as many of the offending invaders as possible and then - I kid you not - "place them in a bag and leave them in the sun for ten minutes." What kind of world are we living in? The best way to dispose of these pests is some kind of serial-killer death-sauna suffocation fantasy? What happened to simply smooshing them? Well, as it turns out, if you smoosh an Asian jumping worm, the NON-smooshed part will simply slither off and grow itself right back.

So mock me all you want for hating nature. I feel fully justified in avoiding a creature that thrashes around eating three times its body weight while respawning itself if you try to kill it. If buddying up with these nightmare factories is your idea of summer fun, have at it. I'll wave to you from the air conditioning.