Pacha Mama Manifested, Recreated, Resurrected as an Ant.
Pacha Mama is the earth mother for the Quechuan nation, who’s god leader in pre-Colombian days was the Inca. Reverence for her is typified, even to day, by making an offering of a small morsel of your food, thrown out over the earth. A piece of crust, A cut of fruit, a sliver of meat. We do the same, although our act is more inadvertent. A scattering of crumbs, a crushed cracker, a mush of pear pulp.
Once our bequest is earth bound though, ants will soon detect our offering, crumbs will soon be heading down a motorway that’s been swept of grit, cleared of any obstructions. Size offers no complication, bulk no problem, co-operation and team work are paramount. A gobbet of corned beef, slowly but purposefully heads towards a cratered hole in the ground, I can count over twenty ants assisting in the removal. Yet, even in these ordered, co-operative societies there are the rebels, the obstructives, the jokers. A large flake of crust follows the meat down the trail, several are involved in the project, yet there are two who seem intent on thwarting the flitting, tripping the workers, clambering and riding on top of the bread. Comedians or the transport manager?