"Ants"

We had an anthill. hundreds or maybe thousands of small, amber colored ants spewed from the sandy tip. we often got "dangerously" close. intrigued. they were busy and focused. so intent on doing something specific. carrying a bit of leaf or another ant. venturing far away. coming all the way back. eating. finding. pinching and exploring. feeling their world. sometimes we'd pluck the legs from a grasshopper and toss it into the heart of the volcano, watching it get "sucked" into the hole. or, to our terror, discover a small army venturing up our laces. the movement was exciting. the intrigue and creepiness, captivating.