Ants!

What if you had the ability to stop a war? Would you do it?

Monday morning improved when I found a pinch of doughnut while waiting for my son’s school bus. You see, I’ve become fond of the ants who inhabit the cement steps that lead down to the sidewalk. Ever since I enjoyed their successful efforts to claim some shrink-wrapped peanut butter cheese crackers, I’ve paid close attention to them. The bit of doughnut was an obvious gift for the thin line of ants marching back and forth across our top step. My son and I watched as a few bold explorers discovered it and started taking bits away to their underground colony. I’d hoped he could see the doughnut covered in ants, but his bus came before that could happen.

But…

When I looked back at the trail of ants, it had become a pile of ants. Or, more precisely, a single-file line of ants led from the left corner, past the bit of doughnut, and then swelled to an impressive heap at the right corner. Just that quick. No more than a few minutes had passed since we’d come outside. And the heap was truly impressive. It was as long as my size 41 Birkenstock sandal and it ranged in depth from one ant up to at least six ants. And they were all moving.

Ants continued to go back and forth, going around the mess, but some joined in. Others, but not many, stopped to claim some of my glazed manna from heaven. Interestingly, these food gatherers always took their loads to the left corner of the step, not the right. That mound on the right—what were they doing in that mound? Mating? It kind of looked like mating, although they are very small ants and frankly, I couldn’t tell if they were head-to-head, bottom-to-bottom, or head-to-bottom. Adding to my confusion: Most were in pairs, but some were in groups of three. Head-to-bottom-to-head?

Clearly I needed some information. My Google search of “Indiana ant swarm” provided plenty. Did you know that all the ants you see are females? Like honeybees, ladies dominate the hive and do all the work. Males are made when they’re needed. Okay, I guess my ants weren’t having a big love-in. So they must be fighting.

Being self-centered, I worried that I had caused the battle. Maybe the doughnut created a turf war. Yet even now no more than four ants were on it. Were the ants thirsty? It’s been very dry here. Maybe I was seeing a panic caused by their limited resources? I brought out some water and poured a little on the ground, but they didn’t seem interested in the quickly absorbed puddle. No one stopped to drink—not the walkers, not the gatherers, not the fierce lady warriors.

Discouraged, I went inside for a while, thinking maybe even ants have free will and should be allowed to continue doing what they were doing. Who was I to interfere? Circle of life, blah, blah, blah. Surely they were doing something that needed to be done.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I figured I should stop this war if I could, without making anything worse. I went back outside. The conflict was still shoe-sized. Looking closely, I saw ant heads scattered about. Only the victims’ tiny size prevented the scene from being truly gruesome. Apparently these were “fight-to-the-finish-take-no-prisoners” gals. But they were getting tired. I could see pairs and threesomes head-to-head (head-to-head-to-bottom?) not moving. I poked a couple hoping to startle and distract them. Instead they resumed their fighting with fresh energy. I was making it worse!

Now I was a sad god-figure. Here I’d provided them with delicious food and water and still they fought. Why? Didn’t they have work to do? Babies to look after? Queens to service? Tunnels to dig? Food to collect?

Disgusted, I thought of just flooding the step. “If you won’t look after yourselves, I’ll drown the lot of you!” Then the whole story of Noah and God at the end of His rope came to mind and I stopped.

Do you ever realize how much power you have and get scared? That realization can be just as frightening as the one that reminds you how small and helpless you really are. I prefer to avoid both lines of thinking, so these ants were really getting under my skin.

I went back into the house, up to my office, and tried to work. I sent some emails. Folded some laundry. Ate something. Eventually I went back to the steps. How could I avoid it? The doughnut was gone. The heap of ants was gone. A single line of ants was walking back and forth. Except for some tiny abandoned heads, it was a peaceful scene. And today, days after the event, the peace continues. At least out there on the step.