It’s hard to say what’s changed. University campus is largely monotonous and homogenous. I mean, of course there’s the new landscaping between Boatwright and Maryland, it was hard to miss the smell of manure on my daily walk from Jepson to Commons. Reminded me of the extensive agriculture of home; a nice little reminder that I belong to two different worlds. Home and here are a mere 135 miles apart, but the smell of manure is the same in both places.
The change of Richmond foliage goes largely unnoticed from my little spot on campus, and from here, not much has changed at all. I mean, the grass is perhaps a different shade of green but it’s still green. Grass can still take care of grass’ self. The stone I sit on is perhaps a little more damp than usual from the influx of rain that we’ve been getting lately, not yet dry from the sun’s rays. When was the last time I was here, a month ago? Back then it was winter posing as spring, and now it is spring being spring. I suppose it is a little warmer now, the daffodils the university planted are blooming nicely.
But there is one thing present that was not during the past month, and this small, subtle change becomes aware to me as I once again look at the dirt. There are a few resilient little ants navigating their way around the soil and grass and cement. Ants, that’s what’s different about this spot. There are ants.
Ants are curious little arthropods. Many of us humans view them as invasive pests and seek to exterminate them as quickly as possible from our humble abodes; however, in nature, these little guys serve an amazing purpose. A true keystone species. They have symbiotic relationships with some caterpillars and aphids where they transport these two species between different feeding areas in exchange for the sweet nectar that they produce. Both insects get food out of the exchange, and sometimes the ants even let the caterpillars stay the night in their colonies for protection from predators of the night. A similar food-based symbiotic relationship exists between ants and some plants where the ants provide protection in exchange for some glucose. Lemon ants also clear plots of land for the growth of lemon ant trees. That’s not even beginning to credit them for their ability to disperse plant seeds. They are truly a unique species with quite an environmental impact.
Socially they are even more marvelous. They efficiently communicate with each other, relegate rolls between defense, nest construction, food cultivation, and royalty. They can travel up to 700 feet away from their nests and even remember where they’ve been using pheromones to mark trails! Shockingly they also raid other colonies for space and resources and sometimes steal larva and eggs and raise them to be workers or slaves for their own colonies. They also possess the ability to learn from their past mistakes and streamline their colonies.
And the most fascinating thing, these things are tiny. Ants surely have no conception of a world larger than their own little 700 foot radius from home base, yet whether they know it or not, they have a massive ecological impact that greatly expands this small little bubble and affect the whole world (there are an estimated 22,000 different species of ants that inhabit every continent except Antarctica).
So I began to think, these arthropods can’t imagine a world outside of their own bubble and similarly I can’t imagine a world outside of the two bubbles that I inhabit. And even though I can’t imagine this larger world (well I can conceptually but not the vast physicality of it all), that doesn’t mean that my ecological impact is any less significant. Indeed, humans, like ants, are a very important keystone species that inhabit every corner of the globe, sans Antarctica. Some would even go so far as to say that humans, like the fire ant, are an invasive species.
However, instead of simply relegating our species to that of the invasive, primed for uprooting and deportation and destruction, perhaps there is something positive that can be gained from this commonality that humans share with ants. How about instead of destroying the environment we inhabit, we remove things selectively so that another beneficial species will flourish? How about, instead of adopting a parasitic attribute we develop one of communalism where we give and take equally from nature? How about we use our impressive social abilities to work for the mutual good of the world?
If these small annoying insects can do it, surely we can do it bigger and better. I’ve always said to enjoy the little things. Who knew that little thing would be an ant?
This one’s for C.J.
