Spirit of the Spider

I'm not quite sure how to describe the significance of this, but I've noticed a prevalence of spiders or representations of spiders in my life lately. Admittedly, my appreciation of insects in general has been rekindled lately by a new friend who pointed out that she has a common interest, and spiders are quite interesting to me. But until today, I didn't notice the pattern of arachno-representation that has occurred subconsciously.

Last month, near the end of my transformational Woman Within Training (I will create a post about that, but for most it will probably be repetitive), we weaved a single web to represent our connectivity to one another. (It was really cool, but I won't go into detail so I don't spoil the fun for anyone else.) Afterward, I decided that my drummer character in my Rock Band video game needed some ink. Despite many designs to choose from, I placed a spider tattoo on her arm.

Since then, I believe it was Wednesday, June 4, I walked to a local restaurant for a yummy pizza to take home, and because a new, local art studio/shop had their doors open late, I browsed while I waited for my hand-tossed goodness. There were many beautiful things in the shop from jewelry, clothes, and furniture, but one thing caught my attention. Yes, a spider.

Two days later, for the town's First Friday event, I met some friends for a bite to eat. Afterwards, I walked them to the studio and had another opportunity to see the spider. I showed it to my friends, and may have had a slight inkling of the idea that I would purchase it, but my mindset lately has been to only spend money on things that were important to me, and this was nonfunctional (even though technically, it is a box that you can put something small in), so I dismissed the thought.

To my surprise, sometime during that following week, I had a fear that someone else would buy the spider. So I decided at that point that if the spider was still in the studio the next time I visited, I would inquire about the price and seriously consider purchasing it.

Over the course of yesterday, I encountered three live spiders. And without any conscious plans to do so, I found myself in the position to visit the studio again last evening, exactly one week after my previous visit. Realizing this opportunity to buy the spider, I shared my excitement with a friend who was accompanying me, as well as my dismay when I learned that it wasn't for sale. After my friend patiently listened to a sales pitch on a piece of jewelry (and stopped listening after hearing the price), the salesperson disclosed that the shop two doors down sells the spiders.

Being late, that shop wasn't open, but after running into some friends this morning for breakfast, we all walked down to the shop and I purchased the spider. And I am happy with my decision.

Anyway, I didn't intend for this to be some boring recount of a trinket purchase - I know I can be long-winded at times. To summarize, I guess I'm just interested to find out what spirit of the spider has to say to me. :)

Symbol of Summer

There are many things people associate with the summer; the most popular is probably beach-related. Although I love the feeling of sand in my toes and being in and near water, the beach “lifestyle” isn’t really my thing. And sure, there are the sports of the season, but again, not really my thing. This excludes tennis of course, but tennis isn’t a symbol of Summer for me as much as a symbol of non-Winter. :)

When I saw my first firefly of the season yesterday, my mind was immediately filled with memories of summer dusks filled with the songs of the wilderness permeating the heavy, cooling air in that rare and magic time of transition where everything is balanced. At the height of visual contrast where light things are lighter and dark things are darker, exactly between night and day, the rhythms and cycles of life on Earth perpetuate. In honor of the beauty of this magic time, I choose the firefly as my symbol for Summer.

What is your symbol of Summer? If you want to share, feel free to leave a comment.

Mantid

A couple of weeks ago, one of my cats (Tiki), brought a praying mantis inside to play with. Fortunately, I noticed before any real harm came to the mantis, and was able to return him to the outdoors.

I believe the one pictured here is male, but that's only based on a childhood memory I have of reading that they were all green when young (nymphs), and as they matured, only the males would turn brown. However, since there are many species and therefore many colors of mantids, I'm not sure how accurate that bit of information is.

This visitor reminded me of my fondness for mantids. It reminded me about how excited I was to find them when I was young. I think they appealed to me mainly because they are relatively large and can move their heads (one of the few insects that can) so there is a connection as they follow your movement with their heads and eyes. Sometimes, I trapped them and provided houseflies so I could observe them prey on live insects. The speed at which they grab their victims and eat them is fascinating to watch. I also remember enjoying how they mimic leaves in a breeze as they sway back and forth on a branch.

After admiring this one, I carried it outside to one of my plants, and it kept flying onto me while I was trying to photograph it, but with some coaxing, it sat still enough for me to grab a couple of shots.

Delight

Okay, maybe this title would better serve a more agreeable experience, but hey--life's short, and there are many words.

Yesterday, upon opening my car door at the end of a work day, I noticed a tiny spider suspended in the center of the space in which I would be sitting. I gently sweeped my finger several inches above the spider to pick up it's silk and transfer it to a large tree that was closeby.

It's probably worth mentioning at this point that I'm generally comfortable around insects, at least until they are found crawling on me without my permission. (And I'm wary around stinging insects because I'm very allergic.)

As I watched the spider land on the tree, I noticed how the tree's bark was so perfectly, randomly segmented into a beautiful mosaic of puff-pastry-like layers of variegated browns and mottled, lichen greens. The trunk of the tree too large to close my arms around.

Just as I was turning away, I sensed movement on the bark. Upon closer inspection, a piece of bark was moving as if something were beneath it. Nay, it a piece of bark with legs!

I picked up some loose bark on the ground to urge it into a little bag I had to take it home and
investigate.

Delight? Sure! I'd never seen or heard of an insect like it! And I'm always amazed by nature's ingenuity, and this was definitely an example! Just the night before, I saw a television program
about animals that drastically transformed themselves through their lifecycle. This insect turned out to be a brown lacewing larvae; a.k.a. "Aphid Wolf", due to its beneficially carnivorous
nature, and "Trash Bug", due to its practice of attaching debris to its back, including carcasses of insect victims, to protect it from larger predators.

I set it loose among my plants because it will find food there until it makes a cocoon, and maybe I will see an adult lacewing someday.