Watching them crawl along, tapping the ground with their chemically-sensitive antennae, I am reminded of a blind man feeling his way with a cane. Or perhaps someone remembers their ability to curl up in a flat coil in a protective maneuver. Big tropical millipedes can fold themselves into a sphere the size of a squash ball. No one fears these odd and ancient creatures. There is no need to do so.
Millipedes are reclusive and shun light.
They are most commonly encountered when a dead log's bark is stripped away, a rock is lifted, or forest litter is disturbed. Their short legs ripple in undulating waves, a miracle of coordination. Millipedes appear to be simple creatures, and that's where we're wrong. Their smoothly segmented external appearance belies a more complex interior, and in the history of life they gave rise to the most remarkable group of animals this world has seen. More of that later.