Ever Wonder…
about puddles of water?
On a hot, late summer’s afternoon, I was bored. I left my chair on the large, front porch. Our family spends this type of early evening outside. This being an attempt to capture any cooling breeze straying our direction.
I settled down on the grass with my back propped against a young oak tree. Gradually I saw a glint of the sun reflected off a puddle of water near the curb. It’s so innocent looking… that puddle of water. On the calm, sparkling surface are unknown adventures, thrills and dangers.
I slid to my belly, chin braced in the palms of my hands as I stared blankly on to the surface of the water. If you stay there long enough you might begin to notice something odd. Two freshly blown small leaves with the ruddy tint of autumn, fell on the surface of Puddleworld Sea.
The vessel commanders arrive. Monarch butterflies flutter softly, silently on to the leaves. A breeze begins to guide them gently around the surface of the Puddleworld Sea.
Skillfully moving their weight – side to side, back and forth – the monarchs caught the light breezes as they sat, wings together and upright, deftly maneuver around each other.
The troops arrive. Four wasps settle on the crafts’ reddened corners. The dull droning sound provides additional locomotive power to the light watercraft. Instinctively following the “thought commands” of the monarch, these warriors fine-tune the speed and direction of the crafts.
I watch with riveted amazement.
Two craft, using both wind and aero-propulsion, move toward the far shore. The shoreline is about 20 inches away, foreign territory for both vessels. On the high cliff of the far shoreline (the curb) a community of carpenter ants gathers. The queen stands tall and firm, a slight breeze from across the small sea provides heroic movement to her hair. Her body is backlit by a late afternoon sun providing a golden hue to her silhouette. Worker ants brought foodstuffs to the edge of the cliff virtually surrounding their queen.
Slowly, deftly the monarchs brought their crafts closer and closer to the base of the cliff.
I glanced to one side.
Our neighbor Mr. Donalds began flushing the grime off his car with a stream of water from the garden hose. A tidal tsunami rolled along the waterway toward the circling vessels. The wasps buzzed away while the two monarchs rose from the leaves and turned brightly colored wings toward Mexico.