I noticed her about a week ago, holding on by a thin strand between the truck’s mirror and the driver’s side door. She is a tiny tightrope walker with spindly legs. The spider is the color of a golden raisin—an earthy tone that makes her seem less spider-like.
Remember
Old Man
Managing Nature
I woke to the sound of rain this morning. I listened to it filter through the leaves of the redwood, oak, and maple trees outside the window and watched it cascade off the roof tiles and into the gutter below. I pictured the immature trees the city recently planted in our neighborhood and wondered how many will survive the winter. They are twigs right now, babies really, insubstantial and frail.