Mike Humfreville - 10-12-2004 at 06:37 PM
Summer?s sun simmered with a brilliant yellow intensity throughout September then faded to a more gentle gold as the days wound into October and a
storm spun its way up the gulf throwing darkened clouds and an inch of rain on parts of the eastern peninsula. By the time we arrived in Bahia de Los
Angeles the storm had departed. Only a few mosquitoes remained. Nature?s natural pests at best. But I have worse words for them.
We had reserved cabin 10 for our two-week stay and lugged our equipment from truck to room and began arranging things to feel like we lived there
beyond forever. There was an ant mound just outside the door and a number of the big red beasts scampering across the sand searching for food. Or so
I thought at first. But that evening after our socializing had slowed I stood leaning against the jam of the door and watching the ant?s activity I
learned otherwise.
They were clearly organized into two groups, one to construct the tunnels by removing small sand granules, the other to scout for and retrieve food
for the masses beneath. As the night bore down I watched while they closed the access to their tunnels, a single point at the surface. Why not more
I wondered? A few were left above, wondering the surface. Night watchmen?
Bed times come relatively early at the Bay. We usually are up with the sun and with all the early fishing and afternoon visiting and shared meals of
evening we?re worn down. Mary Ann is doing exercises for her knee and then in bed reading. I write for a while and think about the events of our
trip thus far, stories worth the telling and those yet to happen and find that I?m slowing down too.
Before I wrap up the day I check in on the ants one last time. All the night watchmen are gone, where I don?t know. And there, inspecting the
covered single mouth to the ant labyrinth below are several ominous, large and black stink bugs, heads down and checking out the sands of the mound
for something. Are they ant eaters I wonder, natural enemies of ants? Or are they feeding on the droppings of ants, remnants of their food
gathering? Antcrap eater?s maybe?
When I get home, I think, drifting off to sleep, I?ll look it all up on the Internet. I fall asleep well pleased to have this small intimate beach
where my simple mind is free to wonder about beasts I usually ignore or find pesky. There were many more experiences with our ants over the days that
followed but for tonight I?ll sleep peacefully, if I can just stop this itching bite on my ankle. Damned moscas.
David K - 10-12-2004 at 06:42 PM
This is really 'deep' Mike!