Daily Note
Every day, a photograph, a poem. Jumping spiders. They live all around on the outside of our house, walking in lurching scurries to find their next dinner, which is usually some bug we do not like: wasp, gnat, fly, mosquito. So we welcome these furry little creatures who often find their way into the bay window INSIDE our house. At that point, we call them “Oscar,” and hope the cat, whose favorite napping place is the same bay window, does not, herself, hunt and eat our Oscar, though it does happen. Or that my son, sho does not know we favor the furry spiders, suddenly leaps up, grabs a newspaper, rolls it up, and swats our Oscar. “Mom, there’s a huge spider in your window!” Sigh. That happened only once, and now he knows not to swat Oscar, who earns his keep by capturing the stinging bugs, gnats, other spiders, and flies that we definitely do not like while he keeps to his window, ignoring us.
Jumping spiders are amazing. They don’t hide in holes— they stalk using their keen vision using four eyes and an anchor of silk to watch and wait and suddenly leap on an unsuspecting dinner. They do not bite humans [unless you sit on them, for instance], and they mind their own corner of the world quite unobtrusively all the while eliminating the bugs we don’t like. They will turn to look at you, and I’ve even had a few who walk about and watch me work on the computer, as if they are curious about what I’m doing. They watch me, look at me, and then scoot back to the window. Oscars are amazing. Learn more here: Jumping Spiders.
Other posts:
As an aside, my other son built the bay window for me years ago— invented his own version of three windows joined. I love it.
Poetry
Jumping Spider
Stalk, then leap: hunter
Sheri Edwards
with four eyes, anchored with silk,
waits for the next fly.
05.12.23 133.365.23
Poetry/Photography [See-Frame-Focus]
On our front door, the little jumping spider watches and waits to leap on the next insect for dinner.
I wonder, if I draw a line... 