Bliss and Fortitude

I watched a black ant walk across the bench before me, not a spec of anything else was on board. The ant was alone as I was. Together as it were, we pondered one another briefly, I glanced away, the ant continued on his way. A wind swept across the bench cooling my shoulders beneath my shirt as they perspired. At that moment I considered the ant and the bench which was his world as it was gently tussled to and fro by the wind on uneven legs his focus so intent responding only to his own immediate sense to simply move forward moment, by moment. Move forward. Move forward. I considered the consequences should his world suddenly be bowled over by a gust of wind from far beyond his path. 
What if the ant could see his world for what it truly was; a flat plane bereft of anything but itself and him? And he could see his world wobbling before him, a strange gust about his mandibles, his antennae sensing that something was not quite right - the horizon shifting, a sensation there and then beyond any doubt that his world would be ending soon along with himself. The weight of his world upon him. That would be fortitude indeed! Assuming of course the ant is of sound mind and body and the wind able to topple the bench.