Perched on the edge of my garden chair, I lean over to get a closer look at the multitude of tiny ants busying around my feet. Their movements seem so haphazard, going in one direction, switching to another, marching in wide curves than staccato back and forth movements, popping down a crack in the payment, popping right back up and then more circling. Each ant seemingly involved only in their journey as from my overhead view I don’t see one connecting with another. Nor from my perspective are they working as a group, just a bunch of tiny dots frantically running around.
I am having an exquisite moment. Sitting in my courtyard the sun shines brightly as every bit of me relaxes into it’s warmth. My eyes drawn to a ladybird traveling down the handle of a spoon resting in the leftover milk of my cereal bowl. Fascinated, everything else fades further away as I follow the little guy walking purposely (or so it seems to me) down towards what must appear as a white lake at the end of the silver path. I think maybe it is thirsty or curious but before I can take my reflection deeper the little traveler slides the last bit and lands into the lake ending up on it’s back with minute legs (many of them) kicking furiously. Without hesitation I dip my finger into the milk and coming up from underneath rescue the explorer. Flipping and regaining his demeanor now settles on my thumb and as I watch, washes each leg in turn. I have to wonder if he likes the taste of the milk and is grateful for a drink.