construction symphony

and then all i can here is the rat-a-tat-a-tat-a-tat-a-tat-a-tat-a of some heavy machine oscillating, cut through with the occasional piercing beep of a machine that wants to let you know that it's backing up and the operator might not see you, and the clank of metal beams getting dropped into place by the crane whose arm swings perilously close but doesn't quite touch this window next to me. i cannot pick out the machine that makes the ratatat, or the machine that keeps backing up; it is a mess of concrete rubble and yellow-vested hard hat tops swarming over this site.

in north sweden, instead of tunneling underground, the ants drag tiny grains of dirt and sand one at a time and stack them up into mounds, then cover them with a thick layer of pine needles, threaded together to lock into a thatched blanket to insulate them against the rough winters. i imagine the inner layers of pine needles slowly decompose, releasing heat as they meld into the dirt layer for a tighter seal. chest-high stacks of pine needles writhed under the trees; it was hard to tell what was ant and what was vegetation on its surface.

i finally shut my window and put on headphones to drown out the jackhammer noises happening next door.

08 January 2019 15:12

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