Whacking Weeds

Over the weekend, I whacked the weeds that had grown between the paver stones. These were the toughest weeds in the entire yard, and I felt terrible about beheading them. They didn’t do anything to me, aside from grow in an unfortunate space.

When I was finished, I began to sweep up the aftermath and saw an inch-long beetle lying on its back, dead. What attracted my attention to the insect was the pair of shiny flies checking out the scene of the crime. I had to look away, as large bugs (let alone dead ones) unnerve me.

I kept at the task of sweeping and threw away the yard waste. I went back over to the beetle to find ants walking all around it. It was at that precise moment that I thought to myself:

“These flies and ants must be confused about how such an enormous insect could meet such a sudden and violent end. This was an armored and seemingly-indestructible behemoth that had just walked among them a few minutes ago. Do they understand that there are greater forces around them that make their lives seem insignificant?”

Then I compared the insects to humans, and my brain nearly exploded.

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