There are spider webs that hold the world together. In the corners of every home, in every city, you’ll find them weaving on winter days as stories spill from ruby lips,  each word strung together into a tall tale but one so true you must go now and look.

At mid day beneath the avocado tree, white puffs of summer snow falls caught in the gentle breeze that knocks it into a glinting fiber high up in the branches.  Suspended now in it’s downward movement, it becomes part of another story. A spider’s true purpose holding leaf to leaf, branch to branch, trunk to earth, and tree to tree.  Each fiber woven, for so long we thought the trees and the earth held itself together but there all along was the spider, with it’s great knowing

When the wind blows hard, the spiders fragments hold.  When all else would be lost in the earth’s shaking a web in the ruins of a cathedral spire remains whole and despite this undid turning.

The old stories say that spider brought letters and words to man. Taught them the way of the alphabet and written language. Was she saying this will be the foundation of man. As she is the foundation of everything else. As she is the weaver of the dreamer and the dreamed. Spun into each corner of the world goes her webs, from the ground and into the highest of human enterprises.