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Half an hour later and the little crowd I drew has become a multitude, milling around all along the end of the compost bin. Every second one, two or more launch themselves. It's a bit like a parachute invasion but in reverse. Sometimes 5 take off at once, almost as if there's been a signal: 'Gerrrr - onimo!!!' A wasp buzzes against my legs but doesn't take any interest in the nearby melee. As the frenzied action mounts I notice a few larger ants - they must be the queens, the males have been sent out first - start to appear. They're like bombers compared to fighter planes, their bodies like plump sausages compared with the little cocktail variety when you compare them with the smaller winged males (which appear in my sketches). As I say, the females are plump and of course each is making her first
flight. I watch one ant queen shrug off a few males to find herself a
space at the edge of the heap. She goes into pre-flight checks, opens
her four gossamer wings, flies elegantly an inch or two out from the edge
of the heap . . . and plummets downwards!
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