A Bridge on the Wall

I walked out to the low stone retaining wall along the park lawn. Planting my footing firmly onto the sunlit granite cap, I noticed a steady line of black ants marching along the mortar groove. Their path broke at a deep chip in the stone. A stiff, dry pine needle lay nearby. I took two deliberate steps, reached down with both hands, and eased the pine needle across the gap until both ends rested flat on the stone. Two ants paused at the edge, tapped the dry wood with their antennae, and walked straight across. I held my ground quietly, watching the procession continue unbroken.