Digging in the back yard, I came across a lowly centipede. I marveled at the efficiency with which it trundled along on all those legs, each side of appendages rippling in concert, a wave of protuberances propelling the small creature forward. Backward was another matter, for when I interrupted the insects progress with the blade of my shovel, it coiled up over itself as if it were a snake. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to where I had sliced into the lawn, as I managed to sever the sprinkler system, resulting in a miniature geyser. While the water feature might have been appreciated had it been intentional, the erstwhile centipede did not appreciate the need to learn to swim. I can only say that centipedes do better on land than they do at sea.