While on break from writing chapter 15 a few days ago, Bella and I reclined on the patio. Just me, my dog and the intoxicating autumn sun. The day was mellow-warm, and a cool breeze lulled my overstimulated mind.
Spider webs cascaded through every corner of the yard, in between patio chairs; woven above the long pipes of the wind chimes. I frowned—I had killed two spiders in my kids shower last night. It is October, the month of scary creatures. Instantly, I think of the two dominating the news right now, then push that thought away.
The breeze carried a thread of silk into the sky, all silvery and graceful. I admired their constructors’ perseverance—they build and rebuild webs until their time to weave is done. Despite us two-legged creatures who plough through their homes and take out their family members “just in case” they find their ways into our shoes or beds to bite us, they never stop construction. Underneath our chairs, from pillar to pillar where we walk through each day, from neighbor’s yard to neighbor’s yard, building bridges between us all whether we like their methods or not.
Metaphors reign all over my backyard—such is the curse of a writer’s imagination. I see them everywhere—in chapter 15, the news. It’s all one giant web, concealing who the good guys really are.
What I most want to do is to drown out the noise and just enjoy the autumn sun. How about you? Do you need to rest? Why don’t you join me on my virtual patio, and we’ll build a bridge or two? Turn off the debates, take off your shoes and sit awhile. Want to see the Darwin’s Bark spider in action? Have a seat and enjoy this miracle.