Water. Groundwater. Surface water. Freshwater. Saltwater. Where does our drinking water come from? How do we protect it from pollution? How do we ensure there will be enough water in the future? How do we make sure that all living things have access to the water that is necessary for survival?

In the Hill Country, water is a complex topic. At times, we suffer from extended droughts, and at other times we experience flooding. Water is stored belowground in vast limestone aquifers. We have springs, man-made lakes, creeks, and rivers, some that travel below the surface through caves. In the dark, wet cracks and crevices of the subterranean unique creatures thrive - salamanders, fish, snails, and harvestmen -  creatures that cannot be found anywhere else. And we have swimming holes with rich histories, both cultural and ecological, and a community and economy that rely on tubing, boating, and fishing.

Water is life.

On Sunday, I stepped outside to discover a joyous curiousity : inchworms hanging from silken threads . . . EVERYWHERE. It was impossible to walk without entangling myself in the web-like strands. Miniature hitchhikers stuck to my fleece jacket at every turn. With the help of a lively breeze, the twig-like caterpillars swung this way and that, like upside down kites. What were these insects up to?

Of course, I wanted to identify the insect ninjas that were zip-lining down from the oak trees. With iphone in hand and my iNaturalist app at the ready, I attempted to get a picture. My first efforts resulted in fuzzy brown dots, blurred by the unrelenting wind. Then I carefully placed the critters on different colored backgrounds - a leaf or the driveway. Sometimes referred to as loopers, their unique method of locomotion - pulling the center of their body upward and then extending their bodies out straight - is remarkably efficient. At times, I ran to my husband yelling, "Quick! Quick! Get a picture of the inchworm on my arm!" (He is used to this kind of strange behavior, thank goodness.) Finally, on day two, a photo opportunity arose when I spotted an inchworm on the inner rim of my red coffee mug, left behind in the garden. Perfect, or so I thought. No luck. I did send off an image to iNaturalist for identification.