That ant is going the wrong way. He’s straying from the pack. I wonder if he’s sick? I wonder if the others will bring him back? Or if he’ll discover a new way to be an ant?
The more you look at ants, the more they look like water… flowing here, flowing there, encountering an obstruction, flowing around it, flowing over it, or carrying it with them as they flow along. And just like too much of anything, if there are too many, they carry away everything in sight, until there is nothing left for others, and nothing left for themselves.
I wonder if ants worry about the environment? I wonder what they think of global warming? If I were an ant I would want to do something, but they act like they don’t even care. Maybe they don’t take themselves as seriously as we do. Maybe for them this world is just a testing ground, and they’ll all get their reward in heaven. I wonder what an ant has to do to get into heaven? I wonder what heaven is for an ant? Maybe it’s warm barn with plenty of food. That’s what it is for me. And since a warm barn with plenty of food always has a number of ants, and usually a donkey or two, then I’m a part of their heaven and they’re a part of mine. Maybe heaven is not a place at all. Maybe it’s a relationship.