Algernon Blackwood

“ O’Malley sprang up. The rats, the squirrel, the bees, ants, fly, wasp, spider, doubtless the plover and the distant hawk as well, all saw him move. The various processes of mysterious Nature, for the fraction of a second, paused. The perfect performers desired no audience, certainly no applause; recognition, praise, admiration, meant nothing to them. They were not even aware that they were wonderful. O’Malley left them. The Continuous Performance went on. He left Nature and returned to Human Nature. ”

“ A momentary memory rose to jar the enjoyment of watching a bee, both clumsy and adept, bear down a head of golden blossom into a lovely curve the wind at once made lovelier⁠—a memory of the Great Man’s answer to a question recently: “They are tiresome, yes, I admit, these Readings; but a man must keep himself before the public, you know. ”

“ There, by chance, was the solitary wasp that stings exactly where paralysis, but not death, shall follow, so that its young shall feed on living food. There was the little trap-door spider, peeping, darting, cleverest of ingenious tiny carpenters. There was the beetle feigning death, as its enemy approached. There, again⁠ ⁠...
A new movement suddenly caught his eye, as he lay motionless, rapt with the wonder of it all. What was it? In the summerhouse, along the darkened floor, a rat⁠—yes, a rat⁠—was advancing slowly and with utmost caution. O’Malley watched keenly, as closely as he dared. ”