Today I’ve watched ants. They have crawled on the wooden boards of the deck and on the stone patio beneath the deck. Some have even made their way into the house—much to the chagrin of our host. One ant carried a dead ant, equal in size to the live ant. Another ant carried a dead bug of another species. The dead bug was three or four times the size of the ant. I could not identify the dead bug; a beetle, maybe. Its body was mangled. Last night I made a comment, “If ants were in charge of a country, that country would take over the world.” I continue to swat at mosquitoes; they carry disease and aim to drink my blood. They bring the violence upon themselves. The ants are peaceful, going about their business. They will climb up and over my leg if that is the most direct path to where they are going. I don’t mind. I like to see them up close. I admire their hard work.