Silken Ladder

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The spider, dropping down from twig,
Unfolds a plan of her devising,
A thin premeditated rig
To use in rising.

And all that journey down through space,
In cool descent and loyal hearted,
She spins a ladder to the place
From where she started.

Thus I, gone forth as spiders do
In spider’s web a truth discerning,
Attach one silken thread to you
For my returning.
~E.B. White “Natural History”

No matter where I go to complete farm chores, I’m getting a face full of spider web and often a spider or two or three in my hair.  The spinners are very busy in the night dropping from rafters and branches, leaping courageously into uncharted territory with only their thread as rescue cable.

I am not so brave as they, nor as industrious.  Instead, I’m lollygagging in the art gallery of their fine work,  appreciating the abundant crop of silken ladders and hammocks, and harvesting what I can on this page.

I’m drawn back morning after morning to see what they’ve caught and how well they endure.  As long as I keep my face out of their masterpiece, all is well.

All is well.

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4 thoughts on “Silken Ladder

  1. Appreciate and admire the reality of your beautiful photos. Am terrified of all insects. When we were kids we were especially wary of ‘darning needles’ (remember them?) because they could sew your eyes and lips together.
    If I ever walked into a spider web and had the architect-spinner wind up in my hair, or face (worse!), I would be hysterical, really hysterical.

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  2. Those photo’s bring back many memories of the dew glistening on webs covering the paths leading to meter poles where I hiked to read. And they always were at face level. Go figure.

    Like

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