I had an uncle who never said much and kept to himself. He spent most of his time tending to his ant farm. He simply loved the ants. And he knew more about them than anybody I've ever met. Then, one day, tragedy struck. 

A strong gale blew the top off his precious ant farm. All the ants were gone. He called me on the phone, practically in tears. When I asked what was wrong, he said, "The ants are my friends. They're blowing in the wind!"