Lessons from a Hill of Ants

On these cold, rainy November days, the ants that were so much a part of our summer landscape are tucked away snugly in their nests. They worked hard gathering food for the winter, as King Solomon mentions in his collection of proverbs, and now they are enjoying the fruits of their labors.

In my recent post A Day on Orcas Island, I mentioned observing some wood ants. They reminded me of an incident from years ago when I was newly widowed and lived in a small RV with Sharon Dog, my red Irish setter. Part of my daily routine included taking Sharon to some nearby field or patch of woods where she could race away her abundant energy.

Near our RV park lay a tract of woodland earmarked for future development. Walking in those woods one fall day, Sharon and I came upon a hill of ants busy preparing for the winter ahead. The entire surface of the three-to-four-foot tall hill shimmered with millions of ants working together, each shiny black with a red-brown head and thorax. Along invisible trails from the woods, streams of ants carried fir needles or bits of twig to add to their hill. Some carried pieces of leaves overhead like little umbrellas or dragged insects larger than themselves to use as food. (I found out later they leave scent trails to help them find their way home.) Other ants scurried back along the same trails into the woods. 

 The entire hill seemed to be made of ants piled one on top of the other, but I didn’t risk digging into it to find out if that was true. Though small, those ants looked unafraid of anything. Instead, I went to the Internet.

It looks like chaos, but every ant has a job to do.

Tiny Architects
 
 I found that wood ants often build their nests atop rotting stumps, which are easy to tunnel into. The nests, complex and wonderful constructions, are built to house hundreds of thousands of individuals. The core of each mound is covered with a deep layer of organic materials: evergreen needles, bits of twigs, dried grass, leaves, and pieces of moss and lichen. Somehow the ants know to lay the thatch in a way that intercepts the sun’s rays at right angles. The thatch becomes a “solar panel,” raising the temperature of the nest above that of the ambient air. This not only keeps the workers warm and active on cool days, but it also provides a warm, even temperature for the babies developing inside the nest. The thatch is also a waterproof “roof,” with each needle and twig laid precisely to direct water off of and away from the nest.

Tending the Young

The center of the nest is deep underground, where workers have excavated a chamber. There, day in and day out, the queen ant goes about her business of laying eggs. The workers, all female, tend to the thousands of eggs and larva, moving them through the tunnels and chambers toward the surface or deeper into the nest to keep them at the right temperature for optimal development. They even bring them to the surface for a dose of sunshine if it is warm enough.

The Ants’ Diet

Workers do more than build the nest and tend the queen and her brood. They bring in food. Ninety per cent of their diet comes from honeydew excreted by aphids. Aphids feed on plant juices, which are high in sugar. They excrete the excess sugar. Ants “milk” the aphids, collecting the honeydew in their abdomens, then return to the nest to regurgitate honeydew for the queen and other workers.
The developing larvae need protein in order to grow, so wood ants also feed on other insects such as caterpillars and beetles and even other ant species, and bring such prey in to feed the babies.

Cleanup and Security
 
Not only does feeding on other insects provide nutrition for the ant colony, but it helps cut down on the number of harmful insects in the environment. The ants keep the nest clean by carrying away dead workers and other debris. The workers also act as soldiers, defending the nest from predatory insects and other dangers. One type, Formica rufa, can spray formic acid at enemies up to several feet away.

 Most of our Northwest Washington nests are not this large.

After learning about all that marvelous organization and society, I wondered what would happen to the ant hill that Sharon Dog and I had seen on our walk. When we returned to the tract of former woodland that spring, we saw that the ant colony had been scraped off the surface of the earth, along with every bush, tree, and other living thing, right down to the bare gray mud. The acres were now builder-ready. The bulldozer that had shoveled away the nest left its tread marks in the dried mud. In the wasteland, we saw a half-buried piece of rotten log. From beneath it, a stream of black-and-red ants poured onto the surface. They clambered over the log, as if wondering what had happened to their nest. A trickle of ants headed across the dried mud toward a still-standing section of trees a hundred yards away. As I watched, the trickle became a steady stream.

It was not an easy journey for the ants. Crossing each lug mark left by the bulldozer meant clambering down a steep wall of mud, across the bottom, and up another steep wall…over and over again. But their path was as direct as if they followed a line laid out, and I followed along beside them. I noticed that many were carrying eggs or larvae, and some were carrying other ants. When they neared the trees, I saw that their destination was an ant hill under construction. Lines of ants fanned out in all directions from the new nest, bringing back building materials. But some of the new arrivals being carried by fellow workers evidently hadn’t accepted the necessity of the move. As soon as they were released, each grabbed one of the other ants and head back toward the ruined nest!

I don’t know how long it took for all the ants to be persuaded that the old nest must be vacated, but the next time Sharon and I stopped by, the new nest at the edge of the woods was much larger. And no more ants lingered at the ruins of the old.

The King James Version of Proverbs 6:6 says, “Go to the ant, thou sluggard!” The Living Bible says, “Take a lesson from the ants, you lazy fellow. Learn from their ways and be wise.”

Don’t we all wish we could be as persistent and hardworking as those wood ants?

The big nests of the wood ants are built on the floor of the woodlands. The withered foliage, twigs and pine needles are heaped by weaving them collectively to make  a hill  that is about one meter high from the ground.  There are many thousands of compartments and tunnels that are concealed quite a distance under the ground inside the ant mound. The nests are similar to a town with facilities such as food stores, accommodation facilities, linkages and also burial grounds for the ants that die. The biggest and oldest nests accommodate as many as 100,000 ants. Generally the life of the colonies extends for several years, the ants live underneath the ground in winter and emerge to the surface during the spring. – See more at: http://www.live-ants.com/wood-ants.html#sthash.fa16T2cN.dpuf

The big nests of the wood ants are built on the floor of the woodlands. The withered foliage, twigs and pine needles are heaped by weaving them collectively to make  a hill  that is about one meter high from the ground.  There are many thousands of compartments and tunnels that are concealed quite a distance under the ground inside the ant mound. The nests are similar to a town with facilities such as food stores, accommodation facilities, linkages and also burial grounds for the ants that die. The biggest and oldest nests accommodate as many as 100,000 ants. Generally the life of the colonies extends for several years, the ants live underneath the ground in winter and emerge to the surface during the spring. – See more at: http://www.live-ants.com/wood-ants.html#sthash.fa16T2cN.dpuf

A Day on Orcas Island

If this autumn is like others here in the Pacific Northwest, we may still have some balmy Indian summer days in the offing. Time for an excursion into the unique and beautiful geography of Washington state. How about a drive to Anacortes and then a ferry trip  to one of the San Juan Islands? You don’t even have to wait for a sunny day to have an adventure. Our Arizona kids loved our recent drizzly ride to Orcas Island, especially when the sun peeked through to give us some spectacular views.

You can call or look up the Washington State ferry system online to find out about ferry schedules. We arrived about an hour ahead of time to assure our place in line and to enjoy the scenery while waiting for our boat to come in. Lenora and Steve disappeared over the edge of the parking lot to explore the beach below.

Salmon on their way to spawn once crowded Washington’s streams so that early pioneers said they could almost cross on the backs of the fish.  This harbor once hosted one of the fifteen salmon canneries that lined the local waterfront. Only the pilings remain today.

A retreating rain shower over one of the islands.

Stopping for passengers at Shaw Island before crossing the narrow channel to the Orcas Village ferry dock on West Sound,

Lunchtime at Cascade Lake. Fishing, swimming, boat rentals, camping, and hiking are popular attractions in Moran State Park.

Mt. Constitution, the highest point in the San Juans at 2, 407 feet elevation, is the centerpiece of Moran State Park. We missed the views from the summit because the twisting road was closed half way up, perhaps because of a recent windstorm. But the trail to Little Summit was right there at the turn-around, so we wandered up the hill. Lenora and Steve came upon this miniature deer and her fawn. The little deer are everywhere. We were told they are small because they are confined to the island; hence inbreeding has caused succeeding generations to become smaller and smaller.

These two young bucks are about as big as medium-sized goats, and with their albino pigmentation that’s what we first thought they were. Albinism is another common genetic characteristic among the San Juan deer.

A view from the Little Summit trail

 Geologists tell us that the San Juans are much older than the mainland. They are actually part of a small chunk of a continent which no longer exists. It collided with the mainland millions of years ago. As the oceanic plate which carries them crushes against and under the continental plate, the islands are being slowly refolded upward. During the ice ages, the islands were covered with more than five thousand vertical feet of ice, which further carved and shaped the beautiful views.

Little Summit, a short walk from the road, halfway up Mt. Constitution
Ships and islands on a cloudy day.
When the day is cloudy, take closeups!

The fun of a trip is often in the details. We noticed a number of brown hillocks alongside the road, two or three feet tall and somewhat bigger than that at the base. We inspected one closely. The surface was moving! Each hillock is the home of thousands of red-headed, black bodied wood ants, many of them laboriously hauling twigs and evergreen needles bigger than they are to add to the mass of the anthill. Below the surface, the queen  lays eggs, nurse workers tend to her and the baby ants, and housekeeping ants haul dead comrades and other debris out of the nest. Watching carefully, we saw ants marching like soldiers along invisible trails into the woods, some carrying household debris. Others were returning with bits of leaves and other building materials.

Although our day on Orcas Island was partly cloudy, we didn’t experience the steady rain that was happening on the mainland. That’s because the San Juans lie within the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains. That makes them part of Washington’s “banana belt”, giving them only about half of the annual rainfall of Seattle.

We drove from one end of the horseshoe-shaped island to the other, ending at tiny Olga, with its popular restaurant-art gallery and its picturesque post office, and never ran out of lovely vistas.

While waiting for the ferry back at Orcas Village, we enjoyed coffee drinks at the 1904 Orcas Hotel and explored a couple of souvenier shops. Next time we’ll stay overnight so we can enjoy more of this charming place.

This little boat seemed sad to see us leave.
It’s back to the desert for Lenora and Steve.