I spotted these guys today. I really admired the way they worked. I had to bring out a reading lamp to the front porch (during the daytime) to get a bright enough field to get a clear photo. I also liked the way the colors turned out here. There were hundreds of ants whisking their cargo from one side of the porch to the other. Nonstop. Unrelenting. Click on the photo for details.
I spotted several undocumented and unpaid workers in my front yard today. I stooped next to them, took photos of them and told them "thank you." You can clearly see a "yellow pollen basket" on the bee in the top photo.
This is another in a series of posts by a few of us who enjoy photographing critters we find in our houses and yards. This shaggy little guy (he was about 3/8" long) was posing on a screen on my back porch. I don't claim to know enough about spiders to tell you anything about him (Click on the photo for more detail):
"Does evolution explain human nature?" This is a typical Templeton Foundation question, in that it is laden with ambiguities. Only when one figures out the meaning of "evolution," "explain," and "human nature" can one really get to work. I suspect that the Templeton questions are drafted vaguely in order to invite a wide range of participants, who must often roll up their sleeves to define the component elements of the question as part of their answer. I don't mean to sound like a pedant here. The reason I am posting on this question is that despite the wobbly question, Templeton has once again done a good job of assembling a wide range of opinion on an important set of issues. You can read the many responses here. My favorites are Frans de Waal,
If we look at our species without letting ourselves be blinded by the technological advances of the last few millennia, we see a creature of flesh and blood with a brain that, albeit three times larger than that of a chimpanzee, does not contain any new parts. Our intellect may be superior, but we have no basic wants or needs that cannot also be observed in our close relatives . . .
Lynn Margulis[R]eligion serves an obvious evolutionary function: it identifies, unifies, and preserves adherents. Admonitions to desist from the seven deadly sins inhibit behaviors that threaten group solidarity and survival. Greed, for example, privileges the individual in seasons of limited resources. Lust - the biblical coveting of the neighbor’s wife (in its male-centered perspective) - interferes with ideals for the nurture of healthy children and effective warriors. Prohibiting sloth enhances productive work intrinsic to survival and reproduction of the social unit. Anger, perhaps useful in battle, destroys family and other social relationships. Envy and pride promote individual interests above those of the larger social unit. The survival value of prohibiting sin seems obvious . . .
I disagree with neo-Darwinist zoologists who assert that the accumulation of random genetic mutations is the major source of evolutionary novelty. More important is symbiogenesis, the evolution of new species from the coming together of members of different species. Symbiogenesis is the behavioral, physiological, and genetic fusion of different kinds of being; it leads to the evolution of chimeric new ones.
Geoffrey MillerMy own research has been inspired mostly by good-genes sexual selection theory (the idea that animals choose their partners based on cues about genetic quality) and costly-signalling theory (the idea that only animals in good condition can afford seemingly pointless displays like extravagant plumage). These theories have proved enormously useful in understanding a range of human behaviors that have seemed to have no clear survival payoffs, like music, dance, art, humor, verbal creativity, conspicuous consumption, and altruism.
Robert WrightWhat Darwinism tells us is how natural selection gave human life its distinctively rich texture of meaning. Darwinism can also give us guidance as we try to better ourselves and make that meaning richer still. What Darwinism does not tell us is why there is meaning at all.
David Sloan WilsonGenes are only one mechanism of inheritance. Some immunological, psychological, and cultural processes also count as evolutionary. They too rely on the open-ended variation and selective retention of traits, but they are based on non-genetic inheritance mechanisms. People and cultures shaped by these fast-paced evolutionary processes no longer have the same "nature," any more than two bacterial strains that have diverged by genetic evolution. In this fashion, my simple and seemingly boring formula can be understood to say that humanity as a whole does not have a single "nature." Instead, each and every person and culture has its own "nature."
There's lots more to read (by these authors and others) at the above link
My family has a dog named "Holly." She's a friendly mutt. Loyal to a fault.
A big raccoon took up residence on or in our garage recently, and Holly didn't like it at all. Our neighbors often saw the raccoon on our garage roof. We often heard Holly's barking, thanks to the raccoon.
We live in the middle of the City of St. Louis, and we know that there are lots of raccoons running around. The City Animal Control told me that if we trapped a raccoon, they would come by to pick it up. By the time I got around to setting a trap, the neighbors mentioned that there was now one big raccoon and several small ones. As I was setting the trap near the garage, I could smell the smell of death. Even as we were trying to trap a raccoon, at least one of the raccoons had already died. I really do wonder how they can survive in a congested urban area, but the do, often enough, anyway.
The next morning, my children excitedly mentioned that we had caught a large raccoon in our trap. 
It looked like it weighed 15 pounds. I called the City Animal Control, and they indicated that they would come out and take away the raccoon. I didn't ask where they would take it, as I assumed that I was essentially dooming the mother raccoon to death, and possibly dooming the babies too (by taking away their mother). As I mentioned above, even as we waited for Animal Control, we were smelling the smell of death whenever we were in our garage. It was getting stronger by the hour.
The next day (today), we still couldn't find any dead raccoon baby, but we did find that there were flies all over the garage, so the raccoon body was apparently nearby. 
Nature, red in tooth and claw. But I'm not done yet. This mini-life cycle started with a human family who wanted the companionship of a neotonous wolf (Holly), who got upset at the raccoon, who had been deprived of her natural habitat by the humans. At least one of her dead babies was being eaten by flies. Now what about the flies? You've all heard the joke, "Why did the fly fly?"
Answer: "Because the spider spider."
This afternoon that joke became incarnate, right in the corner of my garage. Though these macro photos didn't turn out in the sharpest focus, you can clearly see that a spider had caught one of the flies in a web and was making a meal of it (there's also a piece of leaf in the foreground).
If only we humans ate spiders, this cycle would be at its end (or a beginning), but it gets all the more convoluted from here. For instance, 90% of the cells in your body are "aliens," most of them are bacteria that allow us to digest our food. Without them we would die. And while I'm pointing out connections, consider that parallel universe of fungi living under the ground. Two weeks ago, I saw an eruption of mushroom (their fruiting bodies) in the front yard. Without this fungi, most of our plants would die. 
It occurred to me today that, right here in the middle of a major city, whether or not I'm aware of it, nature is churning away, doing its thing in an entirely amoral way. Except for us humans, they say. We supposedly have a "moral" sense that is not anchored to our animal-ness. Or are we spinning elaborate intellectual webs in coming to this conclusion?