Sep 25, 2022·edited Sep 25, 2022Liked by WanderFinder
My pastures are home to three or four colonies of prairie mound ants (formica spp.), they nest in good sized mounds of duff about 18 inches in diameter and from 12 to 18 inches high. Fairly common on the Montana prairie with an odd symbiotic relationship with aphids.
We recently endured ant season here, so I'm unfortunately feeding some of them poison. And I met and avoided a red velvet ant, which is also known as a cow killer, and has an extremely painful sting.
in the late seventies I shared a home on the flood planes of the Espanola Valley, not only with ravenous mosquitos, but with fire ants. They dwealt in sprawling, domed condominiums which for the most part were scrupulously avoided. Even proximal association risked one or more of their warriors crawling up to your thigh before clamping their jaws on your softest flesh, and injecting their poison. The result was as though someone had siezed you with vise-grips and then began to twist it. The experience left you with a mounded welt cruely reminiscent of the ant mound itself.
I tried soaking a few mounds with gasoline and setting them afire. It was satisfying to see the ants evacuate their homes--each mound had multiple openings. But it was clear that the practice was utterly futile. So I returned to the uneasy truce.
My pastures are home to three or four colonies of prairie mound ants (formica spp.), they nest in good sized mounds of duff about 18 inches in diameter and from 12 to 18 inches high. Fairly common on the Montana prairie with an odd symbiotic relationship with aphids.
https://www.insectidentification.org/insect-description.php?identification=Formica-Ant
They don't bother me, so I don't bother them.
I’m hoping mine are weaver ants, building homes out of the happiest and greenest of building materials!
We recently endured ant season here, so I'm unfortunately feeding some of them poison. And I met and avoided a red velvet ant, which is also known as a cow killer, and has an extremely painful sting.
in the late seventies I shared a home on the flood planes of the Espanola Valley, not only with ravenous mosquitos, but with fire ants. They dwealt in sprawling, domed condominiums which for the most part were scrupulously avoided. Even proximal association risked one or more of their warriors crawling up to your thigh before clamping their jaws on your softest flesh, and injecting their poison. The result was as though someone had siezed you with vise-grips and then began to twist it. The experience left you with a mounded welt cruely reminiscent of the ant mound itself.
I tried soaking a few mounds with gasoline and setting them afire. It was satisfying to see the ants evacuate their homes--each mound had multiple openings. But it was clear that the practice was utterly futile. So I returned to the uneasy truce.