Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Robert Howson
Tuesday, December 12, 2023
As a child I was fascinated with the traps created by the Antlions in our back yard. We also referred to them as doodlebugs, but whatever name was used, their hunting methodology was the attraction. The trap was simple enough, an inverted cone, dug in the sandy soil where they made their home. The sides were steep enough that should an unfortunate ant fall into it, the critical angle of repose would cause the sides to collapse, thus preventing an escape. The falling grains of sand would alert the larval Antlion buried at the bottom of the cone whereupon a pair of enormous sickle-like jaws would seize the prey, injecting venom which would immobilize the victim.
Recognizing this pattern of behavior, we children took delight in fooling the predator into revealing himself by using tiny twigs to create a small sand avalanche similar to that created by a trapped arthropod. We could then dig him out and study our captive out in the open. When our curiosity was satisfied it would be returned to its sandy home without us realizing it could go for several months without eating.
The parallels to our spiritual foe were too obvious to ignore. The title “lion” suggested a destroyer, especially one who remains hidden until the kill. The innocent enough looking depression created in the sand spoke volumes about snares that so easily entrap us. And even the comical name “doodlebug” couldn’t disguise the size of those powerful jaws bent on destroying. A lesson written in the sand, a lesson even a child could understand.