Mysterious ants

This summer I acquired a new ant hill near the road. I guess I'd call it medium sized though certainly of a small enough size that I've found it impossible to photograph the occupants. Then one day this past week, I noticed that I had suddenly had a second ant hill about 8-10 feet down the pike from the first. There was a great flurry of activity between the two mounds. Not very photographable, I fear, had I had presence of mind to try.

However, the next day I noticed that the entrance to ant hill #1 had been completely closed down (above) and all activity was taking place at #2 Ant Hill Place. Things were so quiet at #1 that a small snail moseyed across the grains of sand so laboriously excavated. All these changes certainly caused me to wonder what suddenly went wrong with the house where the colony had happily resided for several months.

Here is the new premise (above), with a large welcoming entrance complete with a small pebble to secure the hole. The excavated sand heap isn't nearly as high as at #1, but the ants appeared to be busy moving boulders.

That was the situation for a couple of days, but now there's a new wrinkle to the story. Today, a handful of ants was at work at the old place, where an entrance had been re-opened. Not a big hole, but big enough. I am puzzled. Left with questions for the ecologistt Sson or the soil scientist SIL. For instance, what would cause an entire colony to pick up stakes and move next door; couldn't be anything that I had done, though maybe all that to-ing and fro-ing involving the Pinzgauer might have had some effect. What are those guys who stayed behind up to; was there a revolution that they sat out? If a colony splits in two to accommodate growth, how do individual ants know which crowd to join? There you have it, my curiosity of the day.

Water, Real Water, Falling from the Sky!

You may think it's strange for people to react so viscerally to a couple of storms. On the other hand, take a look (above) at Granite Creek. Dry as a bone on this past, hot Sunday when I took the picture; think of that old cowboy song, Cool Water. Compare with the view through the neighborhood pines today. See what I mean?

Here's today's rain, running down the street to join a rushing stream at the corner. No question that Granite Creek was filling fast.

The oak stems were wet from today's rain; the juniper held lovely drops of water.

Our mountain world begins to change drastically once the rains arrive. Good examples sent over by my neighbor -- an entire ant colony washed out from under the driveway concrete and ready to fly away... and a new crop of mushrooms in a patch of lawn.

Up my hill, a couple of mossy stones have started greening up -- and the ground was wet enough to catch a stranger's paw prints. Possibly a skunk or badger.

Another result of the change in the weather: the air now holds enough moisture to condense out generously on my cold bottle of water. Thus a new way for Max cat to quench his thirst without visiting his water dish. The pink arc is his tongue.