|spider web whirli-gigs along the highway 2014|
Forgive me for the poor quality of the above photo. And forgive me for doing yet another post on spiders (first one, here), but I can't resist sharing.
First, the photo. What you see is a picture taken from the open window of a speeding car, us going down the interstate at 70 mph. I almost lost a helium-balloon out that same-said window when I rolled down that window in an attempt to record what we were seeing.
And what we saw was truly spectacular. We were traveling north, hubby and I, on I-71 from Cincinnati to Columbus to celebrate my mom's 91st birthday. (I shared about her 90th here last year.) The day started out foggy, especially near the bridge crossing the Little Miami River. At times the sun broke forth, other times we hit more patches of fog.
At what mile marker did we first notice them? Not sure, but the sight caught the attention of both of us at about the same time. All along the roadside, and I mean everywhere--in the grasses, on the fences, in the gullies and on the rises--were what I could only describe as (for lack of a better description) feathery whirligigs. Delicate, filmy, ethereal, silver, glistening whirligigs. Fairyland.
"What are those??" we said, not knowing yet what would eventually dawn on us.
On and on the phenomena stretched. Mile after mile. Multiples and multiples of filmy designs. Thousands of them dotting and wavering everywhere. Could we count them? Impossible.
And then it hit us. We were looking at wind-spinning spider webs. For nearly a hundred miles, one after another after another. Can you imagine?
Lucky for me I had the camera. I rolled down the window (that's when we almost lost the balloon, but hubby saved the day, driving with one hand and grabbing the balloon with the other), and started snapping away. Sorry, not much to show for it, but maybe you get the idea.
spider herself. Isn't she beautiful? I later learned she's a banded garden spider who, as an adult, spins her art from August to October, so we timed it right. Obviously, Ohio has a lot of banded garden spiders! And the spiders, hardly noticed until time and circumstances wove themselves together, created a most spectacular display and memorable experience. We still talk about what we saw.
That's my spider story of the week--and my inspiration. It has all the elements of good writing--timing, design, wonder. What's your story for the week? Anything inspire you or spark a sense of wonder for you?
p.s. Spider trivia: The spiders' insect-eating habits are extremely helpful to humans. "Every year, billions of spiders do away with a large number of disease-carrying and crop-destroying insects. If every spider ate just one a day for a year, those insects, piled in one spot, would weigh as much as 50 million people... (What??? Is there a way to verify this claim?)...Spiders are, by far, the most important predator of insects in our world." (This from Elaine Kalantarian, here.) Oh, the things you learn!
p.p.s. Would the banded garden spider be subject to the burden of unrealistic expectations in her work? I think not, but writers are susceptible to such pressure. A great article on just that, The Crushing Weight of Expectations, by Robin LaFevers at Writer Unboxed, addresses the idea. You might find it interesting as you seek to spin your own web of words.