insects [Theme]

Continue to dance too, and not only you, all of you people are dancing only by fate.

Nectar is a sweet syrup, and it is made by plants specifically, and only to pay and fuel bees and butterflies, hummingbirds, bats and other hired vehicles.

Wasp sting is a budget option for Botox. And anesthesia. The face loses sensitivity up to the chin; you can use it to hammer slate nails. And wrinkles are smoothed out. Babble!

A picnic in French is "a walk in the fold". Each of the participants brings with him something edible or gives money to a common cauldron. By the way, initially picnics in the USSR were called "mayovka", because it was on the May holidays that the picnic season usually began. A set of vacationers - a food basket with a white or red, exclusively to cheer up. Barbecue. Bread, toasted on a fire. And, of course, potatoes in ash. The delicious is incredible. But the meaning of the picnic was not in gluttony, but in communication with friends. Guitar, cassette recorder and feast for the whole world... Or rather, to the whole shore. Mentally! If it weren't for mosquitoes - bloodsuckers!

Oh, the talking insect...

And he will fall asleep without saying thanks ...

- Yes, I started. Just now.

The giant insects had neither money nor private property. Work was equally necessary for everyone, the only reward was food.

The insect world appears to have a distinct culture in which ants play the role of the vanguard. Possessing a highly developed instinct for mutual assistance and self-sacrifice, insects, if they were not limited by their miniature size, could easily deprive humans of dominance on Earth.

Now he had complete control of his feelings. They were even unusually acute and susceptible. The terrible shock suffered by his body so intensified and refined them that they noted what had previously been inaccessible to them. He could feel the ripples in his face and take turns discerning the sound of each push of water. He looked at the wooded shore, saw separately every tree, every leaf and veins on it, all down to the insects in the foliage - cicadas, flies with shiny backs, gray spiders stretching their web from branch to branch. He saw all the colors of the rainbow in the dew droplets on millions of blades of grass. The buzzing of a midge dancing over the whirlpools, the fluttering of dragonflies' wings, the blows of the paws of a floating beetle that looked like a boat raised by oars - all this was intelligible music. The fish slid at his very eyes, and he heard the sound of water dissected by it.

Postman - what an inconspicuous job! Who remembers him? No one.
The most surprising thing is that the place of work is very important for people. Pathologically important. The same words spoken by a businessman and a postman are perceived differently. When the first one speaks, he is listened to carefully and remembered, admired for the words, but it is worth saying the same thing to the postman, as he is looked at condescendingly. Devaluing any working cells and exalting others is very similar to the flea experiment, when they are placed in a jar and closed with a lid. These insects jump up and down, trying to escape from captivity. Up and down. Up and down. After some time, the bank is opened, but... but the fleas continue to jump straight to the lid, which is no longer there. Maybe that's why many people are screwing up, trying in this way to ensure that others do not hold the lid low over them? But that's never going to help. Never. It's all about a personal attitude towards oneself and the ability to look dispassionately at oneself, at one's capabilities. And, what is very significant, the ability to regulate such a "cover" over your head. It will be located low - you will break the back of your head, every day hitting the lid, and then you simply can not stand it and go crazy or commit suicide. Too high to raise the bar - and exhausted, trying to achieve the impossible, plus they will look puzzled, seeing pathetic attempts to jump above your head. Self-regulation is the strength of each of us. It is thanks to this that many break out "from the bottom" and, forcing everyone to admire, make their way "to the top".

Fried insects smell good.

Oh, don't hurt a fly!
Her hands are shaking...
Her legs are trembling...

So in the time wrestler among forest peasants was that each of their tries. The animals roamed, birds - flying insects - crawling up one March is not wanted.