Ruling Winter

I was thinking this morning that during winter, the spiders rule the land.  That probably scares a number of you reading this.  And what's even scarier, I suppose, is that you're not even aware of it except when it is foggy at sunrise and you see the grand and magnificent scope of the webs the spiders weave.

Nature itself is their canvas and their webs fall over flowers and trees.  They span pathways and sit along the ground, dozens of filaments drawn between blades of grass.

It is impossible to move and not strike down part of this creation.

Every night, the spiders work their spell.

And every morning, they watch their marvelous works fall to the careless foot.

My guess is that spiders don't mourn that loss.  I guess you could argue that spiders don't mourn anything--they're spiders.  But even Charlotte herself knew the fleeting nature of life, that everything was temporary.

And so we learn to love and live in the precious moments when all is whole.

And when something breaks, when things fall apart, we pick up the pieces and throw them away or recycle them and use them for something else.  We move on.

I have no doubt that even if I don't see them, the spider webs will return tomorrow.