I was in anguish over the climate crisis, ecological devastation and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. But this almost indestructible little creature gave me a lesson in resilience
Less than a millimetre in length, the squishy, transparent animal was completely unaware of my presence, my entire existence, while I watched it in awe. On my computer screen, where I gazed at the image generated by a cheap USB microscope, the water bear stumbled over grains of eroded rock and plant matter, an assemblage of soil, and I felt amused by its bumbling nature. Like someone trying to move through a field of beach balls, I thought.
I had found this water bear, or tardigrade, in a clump of moss I collected during a wet and windy walk with our dog, Bernie, in late 2021. After changing into dry clothes, I rinsed the moss with water and removed the excess using coffee filter paper. Transferring the residue soil and stray moss leaves – known as phyllids – to a small glass bowl, I found the water bear within minutes, but I don’t know how long I then spent watching the little animal manoeuvre through its microscopic kingdom. Time seemed to stand still, my eyes glued to the screen.
