Along the kitchen windowsill they stream, in search of errant toast crumbs and specks of soft cheese. They circle a gravy drip, miniature wildebeest vying for drink at a muddy waterhole. A few brave loyalists carry cat kibble back to their queen.
What does Mother Nature have against ants? She provides meals for everything else: berries for the birds, grasses for the deer, our own sweet blood for the insatiable mosquito.
I’d much rather let in the deer, invite six-point bucks to nibble my houseplants. I will eventually kill all that is green anyway, including the peace lilies, resilient as weeds.