Two summers ago, while running the dogs outside one July night, I noticed a spider in a web on my back porch.
When I say notice, I mean I couldn’t miss it.
When I say on my back porch, I mean the web stretched from the spider plants sitting out all the way up to the awning, say at least five feet end to end.
I didn’t see it earlier in the evening, so the spider had moved quick to build it. I thought maybe it had set up shop in that spot to take advantage of the clouds of insects that the porch light attracts. I thought I’d be nice and left the light on for it.
The next morning, the web was entirely gone.
To my surprise, it was back that night!
And so it went, every day for about the next month. No web during the day, a huge web at night.
A couple weeks in, my son brought the construction to my attention, and there was the spider, swiftly moving in circles in the deep dusk. I was surprised I hadn’t seen the process before, and I was amazed at the speed it moved. I tried to get photos of that, but it was breezy and dark, so they were just pictures of blurry blobs.
Still, just imagine the gumption, the fortitude to build something so elaborate every day, and then take it down every morning. It must have been a good spot for the spider to stay so long.
But just as suddenly, it was gone. No note, no phone call, nothing.
So, what can one take away from this?
– If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again?
– Even the best paradise has its drawbacks?
– Do what you need to do, no matter the effort, because tomorrow you won’t be here?