So much drama ensues around me as I garden and work in the yard. The fox ran by mid-morning with a catch in his jaws. The songbirds jostle and vie endlessly for a perch at the feeder. The neighbor cat lies in wait almost daily, certainly too fat to do any harm but persistent nonetheless.
Last week, the drama took place right beneath my feet in the raised flower bed that runs along the back property line. I would have missed it but for the sand spilling onto the stone wall as I weeded nearby. I tried to snap a photo but was unable to get a good shot. No matter -- the scene is etched in my mind like a daguerreotype.
Daguerreotype
What
were the ants thinking building homes of sand among the irises?
The
design showcased turrets and tunnels and alleyways with hints
Of
early Southeast Asian architecture in shades of brown and grey.
What
a shame for the building site shifted hourly as the earth quaked
And
the city trembled in the midst of waking giants at the sun’s behest
For
the irises came to work on their own time clock set by warming earth.
The
bulbs pushed forth multiple shoots that soon towered like tall, leaning
High
rises with penthouse blooms in purple and white.
Each
millimeter of growth sent the ants into frenzy as grains of sand
Gave
way to gravity only to undo their heavy labor.
Dusk
shed light on the futility and fleeting beauty of their endeavor
And
cast shadows on the brilliance of their intertwined work
As
the insects slept and flowers dozed before the heavy rains fell.
By
chance alone, I was in the presence of greatness aware
That
a city such as this had never been built before and would not last but
For
the daguerreotype in my mind which I intend to keep.
