Monday at the Lake

Yesterday we snoozed and read and stitched and drew and drank adult beverages and sat on the beach and sat in the water and ate corn on the cob and watched Poldark and the mystery after it and got a good night’s sleep.

Every time I come here I find more photographs, even when I think that I have exhausted all the photographic potential after literally hundreds of photographs over many years.

My eyes focused on small things on the beach. What made these tunnels? What made these tracks? I haven’t seen a single anole yet, which is disturbing.

I sat directly on the sand and watched the ants scurrying around. There are still several different kinds of ants here and as far as I can tell they live at peace with each other.

One large black ant was carrying an insect wing a little larger than he was. He would circle around and around with it over a pile of driftwood and bald cypress needles and other flotsam. Whenever he left the pile to walk across the bare sand he scrabbled about with his legs and it seemed that he couldn’t get a firm foothold, so he returned to the pile. I noticed that the other ants who were not carrying a load had no problem walking on the sand. He wouldn’t let go of his burden and he couldn’t get where he wanted to go while he was carrying it.

Take what you will from that. I found it interesting.

If there are duplications or mistakes in this post, the corrections will have to wait. My connection is wobbly.