This small spider’s web, tucked away in the corner of a flower box on our deck, was noticed by Kay and preserved with her camera.

When Kay showed me what she’d found with her camera, I was blown away.  Very grateful.  And very wonderfully small. Breathless.

Here’s what I wrote:

who are you, little i, sitting above the world so high? (e. e. cummins)

from the high perch home hammers and saws have made

on land leveled by bulldozers and gas-guzzling insect graders?

 

Then I see it…in the early morning sun:

 

the all-but-imperceptible home spun from inside a spider’s womb, wet with drops

strung like beads so small… so delicate… so light

they leave the spider’s home intact, a natural grace respecting  strength and weakness – a lightness of being that does not crush or break this hidden part –

this most amazing part – of the larger Web of Life we barely see.