mad in pursuit journal
My heart is still pounding from an early morning ant chase as I discovered they were having a convention in my coffee maker.
The mild, dry winter followed by a cool, damp spring is a great formula for bugs. While I appreciate the contribution of ants to the biosphere, they don't belong in my kitchen.
Every two or three years the big busy wood ants decide to move in with us. They usually disappear after I set ant traps and spray the threshold of the porch door with insecticide, but this year they are vexing me. My ant traps are left over from last year -- they must be defunct.
Their habits and their goals defy me. For some reason they are making a path across the soffit between the porch door and over the stove and sink, high and vertical. Maybe it is the path of smart survivors -- the ones on the floor are too quickly squished. But apparently they decided they like herb tea, which was what I had last used the coffee-maker for. Or maybe the dark dampness reminded them of home.
The last time I had such an emotional face-off with these critters was in Bali, 1997...
This note was in my trip journal:
Well, that was mystical Hindu paradise. In Rochester we like our creatures in their proper place... or else.