ANTLIONS

I first learned to write in a palette of soft sand on my parents' farm in the Northern Province of South Africa. The narrow farm road leading up to our old house was littered in places with fine sand; worn down by the tyres of many farm vehicles. The sand was my domain and allowed me the opportunity of experimenting with varieties of patterns created by my small hand. So you can imagine when one day, to my horror, MY sand was patterned with small conical depressions (which I had not made!). But I was a farm child and I honored my learning by simply sitting down in the sand and watching.

As the sun rose that morning, so too did the ants start their day. These ants were known to me - small and brown in type, with no bite - and I let them go happily about their business. I watched too, in facination, as one of them fell into one of the conical holes in the sand. The ant started to struggle to get out of the hole but these holes were obviously carefully crafted. Soon a spray of fine granules was thrown up from the small pit. This added to the ant's plight and it was gradually dragged down into the apex of the hole. In a split second something caught it; two small pinchers had taken a firm grip and the ant was dragged underneath the sand.

I was 6 years old at the time and sat there - riveted in facination. This was my early introduction to the fascinating world of the ANTLION.

I decided to catch and collect some of the antlions. The trick, I eventually learned, was to get a small piece of grass and then quietly tickle the sides of their conicle holes. This would prompt the ANTLION to action and once it was frantically throwing sand up from it's pit, I would reach in with my hand and, as gently as possible, grab the sand in its general area. If I was lucky, I would eventually find the little creature once I had carefully sifted through the sand. My tiny little captive was then placed in a shoe box filled with sand. I would watch, delightedly, as it dug its way underneath the soil. Those days in my childhood were filled with catching ants and delivering them into the small death pits.

My glee however didn't last long. After a few weeks the ANTLIONS and their beautifully crafted holes simply disappeared and left me mortified. It was only years later that I discovered the secret of the ANTLION...

The ANTLION, often known as the 'Doodlebug' is resident to temperate climates all around the world. They are a creature in transition since they are, in fact, the pupa of the 'lacewing' (a form of dragonfly). During their 'ANTLION' stage, they feed primarily on ants, drawing these insects into their deathtraps, pulling them underground, and feeding off their juices. Despite their 'violent' existence, they are quite beautiful with tiny furry bodies and small, neat pinchers. Candidly, I would say that they look like a giant sperm cell.

So next time you see these tiny depressions in the soil, tread carefully! There might be resident antlions in those holes who are slowly transforming themselves into beautiful dragonflies.

Short and Sweet

What a happy day it has been, for me, today! We have the best weather in the world and I got to spend a morning baking muffins (many of them) with a good friend. Kitchen creations are always special, since I know they bring comfort to their devourers.

This evening, as I watered my garden and pottered around the pool, I saw the first signs in the sky of the promise of rain and felt a shared upliftment with my thirsty plants.

MATRIC DANCE FEVER

It's Matric Dance fever in our household and the day has finally arrived. The atmosphere is feverish with excitement and anticipation. By tomorrow evening, my daughter and her friends will reveal themselves like butterflies emerging from their cocoons.

I look back, with nostalgia, over the years preceding this time. Eighteen years ago, this beautiful young woman arrived in my world as a small human parcel, packed with potential. So much has happened over these years as we have tried to shape her with our love. I have watched in awe as she has embraced her talents, her faith, her values, her friends and her potential. As her mom, I have had the privelege of helping her reach for all these things. Indeed, when I held that little mite all that time ago, I doubted my abilities to fulfill the important role of motherhood. Little did I realise at the time that motherhood in itself holds all the tools to do a sterling job and has allowed me to grow in God's grace. I am so thankful for this opportunity which was given me.

So tomorrow, when I look at her radiance and enjoyment, I will remember the gift which was given me and understand that the time spent over the years is a drop in the pond of God's plan for her. She is adult, she is beautiful and she is on the springboard to fulfillment. I wish my daughter a wonderful, happy Matric dance, with all my love, Mom.