Hanging Out with an Arachnid

He hangs there suspended in the air, resting in his web. With the offshore sea breeze, i imagine it would be much like being in a swinging hammock. He is about the size of my upper thumb, the thumb that keeps hitting the incorrect key.

His web hangs from a tree on our neighbor’s side of the stucco fence i helped build about thirty years ago. The span of his web reaches to the eaves of our roof by the kitchen patio. He rests about 15 feet in the air. The remains of one of his past repasts hang above him. He looks satisfied. I shall let him be.

The crow darts frantically to avoid the perceived threat of the border patrol helicopter flying low. I never know if the pilot is checking out a possible illegal border crosser or letting his family who live somewhere near us know his shift is over, and he will be home soon.

The Southwest corner weather has been strange this summer and autumn. Most folks around here are not thrilled, but i, who loves the feel of a seaport town, have been happy, only concerned with what comes next in these changes. Our summer has been cooler and wetter than usual. The marine layer, normally from mid-May until the end of June has persisted through the two seasons. The annual threat of wildfires is greatly diminished. We only had a couple of days where it reached 90. I can handle that.

The sun is settling beyond the Pacific and is already below our hill. If i chose, i could climb that slope and watch a beautiful sunset, perhaps even catching a green flash. But i am just fine sitting here waiting for the grill to warm enough cook.

It occurred to me the spider and i have a lot going for us. There is no real need to wander from our lairs unless we feel the urge to do so. We are, the two of us, content with what we have.

I just wish i could spin a web and hang there like in a hammock.

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