I watch as a black ant walks along the side of the pool while I dangle my legs in the water. I wonder if he is truly foolish enough to actually go over the edge – sure enough, seconds later, he does. (Forgive me for using the word “he”… it is just how I think of the ant). He drifts out some distance, (at least for an insect of such small stature), and then tries to swim back toward the pool wall in an effort to save himself. I turn my head briefly to watch a starling fly overhead and when I look back, the ant is gone. Did he find his way out of the pool – or go under? I think the latter –I looked away only briefly, so it seems unlikely that he could have escaped so quickly – and I try to imagine what would make him take such a chance – was he suffering from extreme thirst? (There has been a shortage of rain in Spain). Did he feel like a swim? Perhaps it was the quest for a little excitement? Curiosity, or plain old stupidity? I am not an ant, so I cannot begin to understand what he was thinking. But  then, I wonder if he died in a panic… or peacefully because he took such a wonderful risk. After all, how many ants can say that they died taking an early morning swim in a picture postcard fishing village in Spain?