A large poplar tree, an empty courtyard, weeds and unknown flowers clustered together in a beautiful bush, in the distance, a little boy in a small white vest crouched motionless under the tree, smart black eyes curiously staring at a few small mounds next to the roots. Next to the small mound, rows of small black beings are busy, going in and out, and all the little boy's interests are in these little lives, they are constantly stopping, what are they doing?
For a long time, the little boy found that the cookie residue he had dropped in his hand was surrounded by small ants, scrambling to bite into his mouth and hurriedly transporting it to the hole. The little boy finally understood that they needed to keep looking for food, and it was many years before he understood that this was the meaning of their life.
The children found that the ants were also carrying the remains of some bugs. The child remembered that there were nasty green bugs in the rolled leaves he had picked. He took an unsteady step, running to the flowers, and there were really rolled leaves, and there were really green insects. The green insects were placed at the entrance of the ant hole, and the ants surrounded them, and the insects swung violently, but in the end they could not resist the swarms of ants. The green worm was caught in the hole, and a small ant raised its tentacles to look for me? The little boy looked up at the sky, who was he looking for?
Halfway through my life, I have become a busy ant, that ant, have you ever dreamed of me?
