In a disorganized, individualistic world striving towards order, ants defy the odds. Many see the small insects as annoying pests and fail to recognize their excellency. These tiny warriors will go through forests of grass, endless deserts of sand, or dangerous human territory if it means getting even the tiniest speck of food.
One after another, a trail of ants filled my picnic blanket, hoping to reach the prize at the end of the race. Their senses knew that there was a mountain of  sickeningly sweet strawberries waiting for them. It was one of those suffocatingly humid days, so I don't really know what possessed me to eat my lunch outside, especially on the grass that had just recently taken a shower and forgot to dry off. Watching the line of ants, I wondered why they would be hunting for food in these gloomy conditions. If the conditions didn't stop me from coming outside, they sure wouldn't stop the pack.
I envied their perfectness, made just to intimidate me. Ants live their whole structured lives with the sole purpose of being hard workers— almost as if their destiny has been set out for them well before they came into this Earth. Although they didn't touch me, I got a chill down my spine. How can a bug one-hundred times smaller than me still manage to scare me? Even the thought of getting a pea-sized bite on my skin was enough to make me want to retreat.
Their precise lines were mesmerizing. I couldn't see the beginning of where the ants came from, but as far as my eye could see, there were no curves or imperfections. The colony felt each other's energy in order to know where each and every ant went. There was an interruption where the ants clumped up on the strawberry that I could no longer claim to be mine. Working as a team, the ants built a chain to transport the goods back to the motherland, knowing that if a stampede was formed, then their mission wouldn't be successful.
My envy and fright got the best of me. Without thinking, I began to interfere the order they had set up: moving the food, lifting the blanket, trying to step on them. Once I killed one, ten more came scurrying after me. They left no man behind; even the toughest of situations are faced by swarms of ants. Realizing that this was an army against one, I began to dial back my holocaust against the ants because I knew that the battle was a lost cause. I would look like I had chickenpox before I was successful in mutilating the colony.
What would happen to the pieces of strawberries the ants took from me? What served as a small snack for me was probably a big win for the colony; lunch would be served for all. The fruit was bought with my parent’s labor easily,      but the ants had to go through various hardships just to get to the succulent treat. They crossed what were puddles to me and rivers to them, mud that pulled anything that touched it down, and worst of all, my picnic blanket.
Their tenacity, although something to be jealous of, is also inspiring. These creatures, no longer that the nail on my pinky, defy all the odds stacked against them with superhuman strength and perseverance. On top of that, they have become an animal disliked by humans; they are usually greeted with a violent high-five that leads to their ultimate death.
After staring at the line of ants for what seemed like an eternity, I realized that we could both live in peaceful harmony. I decided to give them a strawberry as an offering, go back to eating my sandwich, and never think about them again.
I thought about the ants every time I went down to scratch the twenty bumps on my ankle. The ants had branded me temporarily with bumps that itched more than any other bite I’d been marked with. As if the ants thought this through, their irritating bites made me ponder more and more about their way of life. Would humans be happier with an ant colony mentality, where individuals worked together towards the goal, with no stampedes? That might sound a too perfect to become a reality, but it wouldn't hurt to think with an ant brain once in a while and care for our own colonies like the ants never leave a man behind to face a battle on his own.

I threw away the container that once housed strawberries about a week later, well after my ankles had healed from scars obtained in my war against the ants.