This year we got very much ant trails here. They have their own roads, their own bodies form them. We learned from them: though the pavement is even, the trails show melodic bows. The trails at the sandy graveyard end in a hole. Around the hole they’ve built a cauldron crater made of the finest grains.They walk multi-lane in both directions and there is no left hand- or right hand-traffic. Nevertheless they don’t collide with each other. Slower than the rest some of them are carrying or dragging huge loads like peaces of bark, etc. There are no traffic signs. The traffic reminds me a bit of the Turkish one: we have such signs, but nobody cares, and everybody is aware of the other…. Only that ants never use horns. They are silent people, they are not individuals, but their wisdom lies in the whole population. That’s of course a big difference to us: here everybody must overcome his own stupidity. Though they never make accidents – unless such a monster like me steps onto them.
