Their eyes were upon me

 

 

as I flipped the ‘On’ switch of the mechanical sprayer, dousing them with sudsy spray and a clearing rinse.  They did little to retreat.  The tensile strength of their web proved mighty against the jet spray.  In the end I would find myself dragging a sponge mop across the window to dislodge their beautiful, courageous handiwork.

I’d noticed them from the interior, one day before, and had secretly hoped they would caravan their way off of the window and forward to another more promising arena.

‘Twas not to be.  But murder was never my intention, just displacement.  These spiders have a mightier chore to perform than that of the wicked woman who is busy trying to destroy their handiwork.  I’m in the business of building a comfort zone for a new buyer. These crawling, rural dwellers are busy prepping a birthing pad for their unborn, a safe harbor, and a snare for feeding.

I’m hoping that shiny clean windows are appreciated by the new ‘interior’ family. Unsuspecting are they, that this wicked old woman has a soft spot for spiders, snakes, bees, and songs of the coyote.

There is majesty written within this countryside.  It takes a wild creature to understand the safe harbor that is necessary to support a balance to nature.  Concrete, steel and briefcases are out-of-place in this sanctuary.  Rural life breeds the sturdy, the prepared, the undaunted.

Their eyes were upon me, mine upon them.  My window soap is environmentally safe.  Set charge and build harmoniously against that north wall.  No windows, no prying eyes, and temps will be cooler.  Safety, my Arachnids, safety and peace.  Live long and keep your eyes, open.  All eight of them.

 

 

 

~ by coffeegrounded on August 8, 2015.