When you thrust a shovel into the soil or tear off a piece of
coral, you are, godlike, cutting through an entire world. You
have crossed a hidden frontier known to very few. Immediately
close at hand, around and beneath our feet, lies the least
explored part of the planet's surface. It is also the most vital
place on Earth for human existence. In any habitat, on the
ground, in the forest canopy, or in the water, your eye is first
caught by the big animals—birds, mammals, fish, butterflies. But
gradually the smaller inhabitants, far more numerous, begin to
eclipse them. There are the insect myriads creeping and buzzing
among the weeds, the worms and unnameable creatures that squirm
or scuttle for cover when you turn garden soil for planting.
There are those annoying ants that swarm out when their nest is
accidentally cut open and the pesky beetle grubs exposed at
yellowed grass roots. When you flip a rock over, there are even
more: You see spiderlings and sundry pale unknowns of diverse
form slinking through m