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My favorite ant wasn't just any ant; he strutted about as if he owned the planet and wore a small red thread around his neck like a scarf. I gave him the moniker General Crumbles. General Crumbles once even gazed at me or at least I think he did as the remainder of the colony marched in a robotic line. He zigzagged, paused dramatically, and once even stared at me. He was a fearless revolutionary with six legs. I pictured him commanding massive battles in the garden soil underworld, possibly against termites or a rebel snail army.
I would leave bread crumbs in the same place every afternoon, and he would arrive as if by clockwork. The most inquisitive, if not the first or the quickest. Like a food reviewer, he would analyze each item, sample it, and then use his leadership skills to signal the others. For me, he was more than just an insect; he was a figure in an epic that I had yet to write.
There was no talking, no noise. merely a silent respect between two quite diverse creatures one wearing boots and the other wearing boots made of nothing. Despite this, he is still my favorite ant since his little hustle revealed to me a whole world that never sought to be discovered.