Imagine you're a doctor or nurse and you get to work to find a green ant, in a specimen jar, neatly placed in the middle of your desk. That'd be weird right? You'd have questions. I'm sure you have questions right now. Well, that hasn't happened to anyone (or maybe it has??) but, it very nearly did. Let me explain.

I clean a clinic most nights. One night recently I arrived, parked my bike in the end office I exit from and walked to the kitchen where I usually put the swipe card and my headphone case. On my way to the kitchen I felt a tickle on the back of my neck. A brush of my neck, nothing there. Another tickle. I placed my headphones and swipe card down and pulled my shirt collar around to inspect. With a bit of awkward twisting I got the collar of my shirt far enough around to see the tickle. It was a little green ant.

Immediately I knew she (worker green ants, in fact most any ant, are female) was from my front gate. They were very busy crossing the latch when I left. The curry leaf tree that their nest is in and that they use to access the fence often brushes me because I neglect to prune it.

So what was I to do? I couldn't just flick her onto the floor to roam the clinic. Then when I thought about it, I really only had one choice. You see, these worker ants live for 1 to 3 years so she potentially had a couple years left in her life and if I were to just flick her off or put her outside on a random tree she would have died.

But hear me out, these ants are HARD working. Tireless. She would have spent the rest of her (shortened) life walking in vague circles seeking a familiar scent of her colony. Walking and walking and walking, starving and dehydrated yet still tireless. Until she just couldn't anymore. Or, she would stumble across a colony, but not hers, and they would quickly overpower her and tear her bits for food. Green ants are very hostile to outsiders.

You see, I could not leave her to this fate. So I got a specimen container and put it to the collar of my shirt expecting this to take a few goes. She walked straight in. I popped the lid on and put her on the desk in the end office, where I store my bike. Ant secure, conscious intact, I began work.

In the headphones went, on went the podcast (Extremely Accurate Bird Songs if you're wondering) and off I went doing all the cleaning things I do every night. When I get to a certain point mopping the hallway leading to the end office I take the bucket and my bike outside and turn the last light off. I packed up, finished mopping, cleaned up the bucket and blah blah blah, sorry, you don't need to know about my cleaning routine.

I ride home, park my bike up, flick my shoes off (or as I say to my little one "free the feeties") and make it a couple steps to the stairs before... Oh no. The ant. That's right, I left the poor ant in the container on the desk. Shit.

Well, OBVIOUSLY, I have to go back. The only thing worse than how I imagined she'd die if I flicked her off would be to walk endlessly in small circles in a plastic container in the bin. So, no shoes (because my feet were free for the night and they would not be caged again!) I got back on my bike and got back to the clinic. Before you roll your eyes TOO hard, it's only like a 2 min ride and my bike is really nice. At least, I think it is.

I collect this poor little ant who indeed is still walking the perimeter of the container and gently place said container... In my pocket. I spend the ride home hoping it's not too bumpy for her. Back home again and at the front gate. The moment is finally here. Release. I internally panic for a second. What if I'm wrong? What if this isn't her colony? I'll be releasing her to her immediate and brutal death. But no, it must be. It has to be. Right? It makes the most sense. From where else would a green ant fall on me? Lots of places probably. But less likely ones.

I open the container and place it against the fence, in the middle of an ant path. She exits, has a feel (sniff?) around. She is greeted suddenly by several other workers. This is the moment of truth. I’m tense. They greet, it's fine. It's her colony. Her sisters. After a brief exchange, it's back to work like nothing happened and her little 4 hour hiatus is over.

And my green ant rescue mission comes to an end. She was returned to her sisters to potentially live a few more years, traversing the tree I don't prune and my front gate. I hope she tells tales of her strange encounter.

A Green Ant’s Life

Ode to Japan