Black Ants

They appear each spring unannounced and uninvited - hundreds of big black ants. I don't leave doors open for them or lay out any feasts, but they come anyways, mysteriously finding their way into my apartment. I am amazed that no matter what I do to rid myself of this invasion - laying out ant buttons, leaving orange rinds laced with Boric acid, being fastidious about putting food away - they seem to increase in number for dozens of days.

They crawl around in the most unexpected places. I find them in the bathroom carpet, on the couch, in the laundry room. I've swept them up with brooms, flushed them down the toilet, scalded them with hot water - they just keep coming. (Don't tell the animal rights people)

I always thought ants were day creatures, but I have found them active and running in the middle of the night in the dark. I am beginning to think these fellows are some mutant colony left behind after a failed extermination attempt.

I have to admire their perseverance. They just don't give up. I watched one little fellow for nearly a half hour try to swim across what must have seemed an ocean to him, even though it was just a bowl of water. He flailed and floundered and struggled, then lay still for a bit, then wriggled and twisted and kicked. At one point I thought he was a goner, but somehow he made it to the edge of the bowl.

Without a moment's hesitation or rest, he scrambled away down the side of the coffee table and disappeared under the mint plant as if he had not just barely escaped the jaws of death by the skin of his antennae. He fulfilled every word of that irritating song about high hopes and ants and pie in the sky and all that. Despite his small size and the huge obstacle, he just kept trying.

Odd thing is, after a week or so, they all disappear, as if they had never invaded. They don't seem to have taken anything although I am sure they had a royal feast. They don't leave behind any visible dirt or broken stuff or make holes in walls. They come, they run around, they go.

We are told in the wisdom book to consider the ant who, without supervisor or overseer, gathers food and takes care of business. I have to say, even if they *did* manage to gather food, it sure looked like they could used a supervisor - or at least a traffic cop! There was no discernible pattern to their wild escapades.

Perhaps it is their unflagging energy and focus that is to be envied. They are in constant motion, rarely ever pausing, even when confronted with an immovable obstacle. Sort of like the energizer bunny - keeps on ticking.

Well, they are still running around in my living room. I expect to wake up any morning and discover that they have departed for sites unknown. And I can't say as I will miss them. I just hope they aren't replaced with some other moving critter less amicable.