A warm summers day, I came upon a barn spider, hanging on his web. Morning dew clinging to the strands, glistened in the sunlight. A grasshopper jumped into the web, and was held for a moment, but it popped itself loose. The spider, with its spiked tan abdomen, fixed the damage. It didn’t shout. It didn’t pout. It just fixed the hole. I watched it, wondering how it could work so steady and diligently without giving up. The tall grass nearby loosed a fury of moths. Their white wings, silently slapped the air. One of them found its way into the web. It was trapped and the spider lunged for it, but it too, twisted loose. Its flight was burden by the web fragments stuck to its wings that it fell back into the tall grass. Like before, the barn spider repaired the damage, in calm, smooth movements. After a time, the web was repaired, and the spider returned to his leaf where he rested and waited. A fat house fly, buzzed and bounced in the air, and it too found its way to the waiting web. It struck and made the entire thing bounce, like an obese man falling on a trampoline. The fly tried to escape. It buzzed and writhed, but it was stuck. The spider was soon upon it, and wrapped it up in a bulging tomb of web. As the spider feasted, I admired its calm tenacious resolve, reminding me, that if I keep at it, one day, I too may be fed.
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
