The Tiniest of Creatures

marveling at the well of today

In this very old house, opportunities abound for the tiniest of creatures to find their way in to visit.  Windows and storms, neither of which fit securely and spaces between old floorboards have the teeny- tiniest entrance points, especially into the kitchen, it seems. Disintegrating wood barely able to be seen at the bottom of the otherwise completely solid woodwork that houses windows is another portal I have discovered.

I go on space searches more out of fascination than anything. There are so many times I simply cannot figure out the tiniest of creatures arrived at the middle of the kitchen table.

One of the hundreds of books that were relished over the years when working with young children is Two Bad Ants by Chris Van Allsburg. The ants in this book are the big black ones that are so familiar and hard to miss. If you have not read it, it is a delight.

My visiting ants, mostly in the kitchen, though I did find one in the bedroom the other day, are not the big black ones but THE teeny-tiniest ants I have ever seen. They are called, aptly, Little Black Ants and measure about 1/16 of an inch.

Where’s Waldo the Ant?

The photo is magnified, still not capturing how tiny against a fiber hair of the rug.

Here is why I marvel at these little beings of creation, as well as, admittedly, not being able to welcome them with open arms, especially when they multiply as it gets warmer.

What is contained in this teeny-tiniest of bodies that directs navigation and behaviors? There is no question that when they appear, they are on a mission. There are sensors so that when heading toward something that is threatening, they quickly turn and go a different direction. The know what they are looking for and I can tell you that generally it is not cat food.

I am more often finding them around “sweet.” How do they discern sweet from salty from sour from meaty? What teeny-tiny little brains do they have?

I ask these questions with wonder, marveling at their existence and place in this world. And why can I not for the life of me see how one has gotten to the top of the kitchen table (bar table height) when I see no activity at the foot of the legs? Ever?

Well, almost never.

The story of one ant.

I noticed it on the table with the teeny-tiniest crumb of something in its mouth. I am at least guessing it has a mouth. The size of the crumb was such that I would never have even noticed it. I have no idea what it was.

I was completely mesmerized for the next half hour or so.

This teeny-tiny little creature held onto that teeny-tiny bit of food without ever dropping it as it traversed the table top all the way to where it disappeared from my sight. The photo is of it as it traveled what must have felt like the equivalent of 500 miles.

At the beginning, it traveled around the tabletop trying to figure out how to go over the edge. Back and forth, around and around, to the edge and back again, the figuring continued. Finally, with all the gumption it must have had, it crawled over the edge to the underside of the edge, continuing to carry the food upside down.

It then found its way from the underside to a panel underneath that led to the leg.

The leg being black, I had to kneel to watch the journey. Down, down, down at a very slow pace for it must have felt like it was carrying a one-ton gift, it went.

At the bottom, the table leg meets a carpet. Transitioning from the smooth wood to what was a material that must have held little mountains for this little being was another challenge. It stepped forward and back and forward and back.

All the while holding the tiniest shred of food in its mouth.

Finally making its way across the carpet it came to the edge, a binding that was another “up and over” before it could reach the floor.

Accomplishing that last feat, I was certain that as soon as the ant got to the floor it would disappear into a crack between the floorboards, but no.

It kept walking and walking and walking, crossing the cracks, stopping to look down sometimes but never going down, until FINALLY, finally it came to the base of window woodwork that has disintegrated just a bit from age.

And there, there was its destination.

I watched with total awe until this teeny-tiniest creature completely disappeared, never once having dropped what must have been a treasured find, perhaps taking it to the queen or perhaps having an ant tea party when it got home.

I’ll never know. I can only imagine, which provides some fun.

My eyes now stay open to more marvels that I have too often missed

What stays with me as I write these words is a yet to be answered deep curiosity and wonder at what that body contains. I read that this ant has a stinger but is too tiny and weak to use it.

However, I have no words to truly describe observing the tenacity with which that ant went from a high table, over and under all the challenges it faced, to the barely big enough opening that took it to its destination, never once dropping what it carried.  

It would be easy to go into a piece about comparing its tenacity to my own but the ant wins, I think.

I choose to simply stay in awe and wonder, marveling at a living creation that knew where it was going. I do not believe it went under the woodwork simply by chance. It would have been much easier to go down the very first crack in the floorboard.

We put so much focus on the big wonders of the world that the tiniest ones are often missed.

I will do my best to remember this wonder when it brings all of its friends and relatives along in the not too distant future.

In the meantime, the honey jar lid is screwed on so that I have a hard time unscrewing it. And when one will surely sneak in someday, I will consider it another wonder.