Over the past few summers, Erin has delighted herself by jumping on the mower and creating a maze of paths criss-crossing through the goldenrods and lupins out in our back field. At this time of year, the lupins are long gone and the fall colours are just beginning to take hold.
I giggled, because she had built this amazing web spanning a footpath. I can just hear her thinking "They can call me crazy if they want. All it takes is one big score and I'm set for life."
I can identify. I'm a writer.
I have no pension plan, I have no back-up, I have no contingencies for rainy days. I am working without a net.
But all it takes is that one big score.
The spider was busy wrapping up a fly that had zigged when it ought to have zagged, a snack to tide her over while she waits patiently for something that - let's be honest - may not ever come. She's done all the work, prepared as best she can. But sure - the odds are against her.
Even so, she waits. Because she's a spider. And that's what spiders do.