Lessons Learned from a Spider

In my perfect world I would have taken a wonderful picture of the post I'm about to share.

A spontaneous experience, with no camera in hand... 
so here are my "a thousand words".  

May you see the picture within them!

I don't like spiders. 

There, I've said it. 

Let me say it again with more emphasis... I don't like spiders.

Spiders have never been invited guests to my gardens. I have actually formed an alliance with all garden snakes, whom I don't really like either:   

"All garden snakes may live here 
as long as they eat the spiders."

They do quite a nice job, as I rarely see spiders in my garden.  But on occasion I do. 

One such occasion happened last week as I sat on the grass, carefully removing the debris from the garden's edge. Little children often roam my gardens, so at times, I  find all sorts of hidden prizes among the crackling leaves. On this occasion, my eye spotted a curious looking quarter inch bead.  It was easy to spot as its brilliant blue seemed to shout "I do not belong in this garden." 

I scooped it up with the surrounding debris with my gloved hand for further inspection.  I was intrigued by the pattern of indentations on the surface of this little bead, somewhat like that of a golf ball.  I brought it closer to my eyes to view the tiny details. As I shifted the handful of debris in my hand to view it more carefully, I quite suddenly became aware that there, in my hand, next to the bead, was a spider.  I could not empty my hand fast enough! 

As the contents of my hand fell to the earth, I discovered that the spider was actually connected to the bead.  "How curious", I thought.  As I strained to look closer from my now safe distance, I soon realized that the bead was not a bead at all, rather it was the spiders egg sac.

My first instinct was to step on it... fair consequence for all spiders who enter This Grandmother's Garden.  No sooner had I thought the thought when a wave of unexpected compassion spread over me. I found myself pausing... "You can live," I said to this little mama with her expectant babies. I gently replaced the cover of debris in which she was hiding.  "You can live." I repeated aloud, somewhat surprised with my actions and I slowly walked away.

I've reflected on this experience several times since its occurrence and each time a smile comes to my face as I feel a sweet connection to this little spider family... to all things living, all creatures great and small, the Lord God loveth all.  Hm-m-m... not so sure I can love spiders, but I've certainly taken a step toward tolerance. Is there a greater lesson to be learned here? 

On My Way to Somewhere

The bright flowers in the old man's basket caught my eye 

as I drove down the busy road on my way to somewhere.

I wanted to stop, to watch this tender act of love unfold, 

but it was a busy, busy day... so much to do, so many deadlines to meet.  

In seconds, 

my heart captured this tender moment, 

and here I am, days later, still reflecting on the scene.

 

I've played those few seconds over and over again in my mind,
touched by what I saw 

and the feelings it drew from my heart.

Funny how our minds can do that, 

remember as though it's just happening.
And still... I long to stop.

I was trying to stay focused on the road ahead 

as I drove past the old rock walled cemetery.  

I was very much aware that the cemetery was there 

with its carefully placed stones and stately trees lining the perimeter. 

I took a quick glance to my right as I drove by, 

knowing that for whatever reason, 

the view of this landscape brings solace to my soul.

 

What I saw in those few short seconds 

was far more than I had ever expected.

There... an old man in a wool winter coat and gentleman's hat

walked rather briskly,

his long strides defining his haste to go somewhere. 

His slightly bent frame revealed hands wrapped around handles of a modified walker,

a wire basket attached to the front.

There, in the basket, lay the bright bouquet of fresh flowers, 

a stark contrast to the somber grays and whites of this cold and dreary winter's day.

Instinct whispered to me... slow down 
 as I sensed something quite wonderful happening within my view. 

Mindful of deadlines to meet with cars pressing behind me
on their way to their own somewhere, 

I did not slow down,
though deep within my heart I wished that I could. 

Perhaps it was better that I did not,
never would I want to intrude on such a private moment.

I can only imagine the portion of this story 

that I did not see:

The old man, intent to reach the grave of his Sweetheart
before the approaching storm, walked briskly. 

The sweet and abiding love they shared... still deep and vibrant within his broken heart,
beckoned him to leave this token of remembrance...
a sweet bouquet of flowers.

Perhaps this was not his first such visit...
my imagination tells me it was not.

The love of his lifetime had passed on...

long before his heart could bear to part with her.

Can two hearts so intertwined ever  bear to part?

My own heart skips with joy 

that I have such a love in my life. 

Still living and breathing, 

he walks with me side by side... sharing my everyday. 

♥  ♥  ♥

Though reason tells me, we too, will part in some distant future,
I know in my heart it will be but for a season.
He's my forever  love...
how sweet will be the reunion.

I wonder if he'll bring me flowers?

Farewell...

Sighing farewell to the bright stars of my garden...
the orange and pink zinnias,
the rosy dahlias.
They have all succumbed to the first frost.
The leaves of my trees are politely turning colors to ease my grief.

Morning in My Gardens

Sitting near my open window I hear
the water's gentle skip down stones of our Waterfall,
the Doves soft coo as they arrive for early morning foraging,
and the Quail's lonely chi-ca-go calling for his mate from the garden's edge.

The Canadian Geese honk in unison
as their perfect V flies swiftly on their way to somewhere,
the orange headed House Finch brightens the air with his sweet melody
and the Meadow Lark officially proclaims "it's once again morning in my gardens."

Sometimes life throws a curve ball that takes awhile to get over.
Such has been my Summer.

I've been running fast to catch up
but just haven't been able to go fast enough.

On occasion I've visited this lonely blog and wondered out loud,
"Is this me? Did I write these words?"

They seem so far removed, yet at the same time
so hauntingly familiar.

I actually like coming here, the words lift my Spirit.
And I've really needed a little Spirit lifting. Ok, maybe a lot.

Autumn has that same affect on me
and even though we're well into October here...

I'm finally beginning to feel a little Autumn.