My wife Mil and I walked out along the bog this past autumn. A shaft of light lit up an incandescent cloud of gnats, hovering in what looked like mindless flight above the orangish dirt of the path.
"Once I was sitting in the Duke Gardens by myself, and I witnessed a metaorganism," I said to her.
She urged me to continue, so I did. "Just like that cloud there, they were just flying around. But then they grouped themselves, within about a second, into three perfect hovering columns." I gestured with my hands. "About three feet tall and ten inches wide. Like perfect geometric cylinders."
Continue reading "The Metamorphosis Files: Termites"
