I catch some movement in my peripheral vision that diverts my attention to a little yellow beetle fighting to climb over a chip of bark mulch near my feet. I crouch down to get a closer look. Six tiny legs paddle vigorously while two long, segmented antennae feel busily about in front. What kinds of lives do these mini marvels of creation lead? It suddenly dawns on me that as I live my life from day to day, there is a whole world going on under my very nose without my awareness or one iota of my control. Humbling. Awesome. My imagination begins to whir. Where is this little guy heading right now as he barely hurdles the obstacle in front of him? How does he view this new world of his? Everything would seem so big and impressive. Ordinary garden flowers would tower high above him with massive stems of green ending in broad canopies of dazzling colour. A gentle spring rain would come splashing down from the sky as jumbo water bombs, pounding the ground and rattling his podomeres. As I muse, the beetle clambers up the stalk of a verdant perennial, tightropes across a leaf stem and stops short at the end of the leaf. Resting briefly to survey the surroundings, he lifts a forearm and draws it through his mandibles, reminiscent of a kitten licking its paws. If by chance he were to turn his gaze just now, he would doubtless be greeted with a distorted reflection of himself in a massive disc of engineered glass. Click.