Sitting in the bright sunshine this afternoon, I looked out across our aging asphalt driveway and was immediately struck by its resemblance to a desert landscape. An extensive network of shallow cracks brought to mind the dry river beds and washes that one sees on aerial photos of deserts.
Scattered pebbles might have been the remnants of volcanic necks and sun-bleached twigs had clearly washed down from higher woodlands, perhaps in a flash flood. A bit downstream from my chair, one of the larger drainages had expanded into a shallow badlands where ridges of asphalt rose above an oval pattern of rivulets.
It was into this sun-drenched, arid landscape that a tiny ant ventured, zigzagging his way with apparent purpose. Halfway across the driveway, he disappeared into one of the deeper "canyons," risking, in my mind, attack by a hidden predator. As if to give credence to my imaginary scenario, a moth suddenly emerged from another crevice, flying off toward the greenery of our "lawn."
