Concealed... and Revealed

 

 

 

"From the fog that,

your eyes

concealed...

The webs of your life

were

revealed..."

 

 

The other morning, the fog rolled in just before sunrise. Made for great web-seeing... for those of us so inclined.

 

On the way to the office I had to remind myself to focus on the road and not upon all the wondrously constructed and strategically placed webs that appeared to come from 'no-where'. The heavy dew-laden silks made webs clearly visible; on the phone lines, road signs, bushes, trees, fence posts...everywhere. Some hedge-rows looked as if, straight from a Halloween set, hundreds of webs had been spread about.

 

Everywhere...

 

And... they were there yesterday.

 

And they did not dis-appear after the sunlight lapped up the water droplets.

 

Seemed like it though. 'Looked' like they were gone. And I could 'hear' so many thinking

 

"Where did all those spiders come from?" and "Where did they all go?"

 

(Just because you'd like to know: On average, you are never more than 10' away from... an eight-legged marvel!)

 

Concealed and revealed. A provocative paradox...

 

Sometimes God gives us aids to 'see' better with. In many forms and fashions. Always a common thread, I think; our eyes need help. Especially in the fog.

 

Be wise about how much you 'determine' when they are used in isolation.

 

 

                                         

                                               



 

 

 "A tear of wisdom

there for thee...
 

Her web of Life

for they who see"

 

********

 

 

 





And this our Lives...

 

 

"Sweet; the uses of adversity, which

Like the toad

Ugly and venomous

Wears yet a precious jewel in it's head

 

And this our lives...

Exempt from public haunt, finds

 

 

 

 Tongues in trees...

 

 

 

 

 

Books in running brooks...

 

 

 

 

 

Sermons in stones...

 

 

 

And Good in all things."

 

                                                                  -William Shakespeare

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

'Realing' me in...to myself

"Let your adornment be the inner self with the lasting beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit." 
                                                                                                                            - 1 Peter 3:4

Last evening, Keeli and I were finishing our evening walk and it was just after sunset... which seems to be now arriving sooner and sooner. Fall Classic sky scene; collage of oranges and blues and grays washed with cottony-white cumulus and wisps of high altitude cirrus for good measure, escorting the reclining sun to it's relative resting place before another revolution. Another evolution...

I noticed what I first thought to be  a contrail of sorts against the dramatic western sky but quickly realized that couldn't be.

The undulating movement; like a tight braiding of milky-white, smoky fibers that were now apparent to me just ten feet from my eyes; not in the distant sky, was in reality, a length of spider silk. Wafting lazily in the wind, extending across the street to my right. To my left, about five feet to it's source..  a healthy garden spider; Neoscona Crucifera to be more precise. Boulevard tree firmly in hand... and feet. Her's.

I was purely captivated by the ethereal dancing line. The rather blurry-appearing end of it compared to the finely-focused and tight line that connected directly to her. I had to share this!

Neighbor and dog-walking partner Catherine lives across the street from the spectacle so
I went over and got her and niece Heather to confirm I was not hallucinating. After all, I had been introducing her to spiders for about the past year along many of our walks with our dogs. She had gotten hooked on what used to be a creepy topic.

As they came out of their door, I had already gone back down to where the line was and they were wondering what the heck I was looking at. I made sure hey did not walk into it and pointed out the floating line with the western sky in the background. They were captivated by a few moments of mystery and wonderment until I had them follow it all the way over to Ms. Neo on her leaf.

So there we all stood; in amazement of the long line of super silk, dancing and putting on a gravity-defying show of grace and divine wonder. At times, the end of the line appeared to be grasped by something and brought upward, only to slowly drop back down. I put my finger against the line directly in front of me at about eye level and showed the ladies the stickiness of the silk. It clung to my finger though the contact area was no more than the head of a pin...

Miss Neo was not bothered by us in the least. Maybe she was fishing for gnats? Guess she did catch a nut...

And then she did something that I had not seen before. All of a sudden, the dancing end of the wonder rope starting moving in toward the tree. She was reeling it in! I had just broken contact with the silk and in a matter of seconds, all our six eyes followed the end of her line as it was balled up the size of a poppy seed. She promptly stuck it onto the backside of a leaf she was standing on.

And that was that.

I think we all sort of felt a privileged sense for collectively experiencing that. A connecting moment? For sure. Three captivated humans and a brilliant 'little' spider. This is the Universe affirming our human ascendancy by virtue of our abilities to comprehend such acts while reminding us of our roles as masters of the earth. Oh yes; the responsibilities that come with it, too. I just have to believe the spider has an innate awareness of that. Along with all her nature-mates.

She continued her show by traveling the nearly invisible lines she had already placed and proceeded to develop the framing of her evening web. And as if on queue, after explaining how these spiders will drop down  up to 10 feet with an anchor line and zip-line right back up, she spread all eight legs out wide and nearly pointing upward... and down she went! 

Weee! All the way to the sidewalk.

I also witnessed something never before seen by me; a jet-stream of that same wispy line went out nearly horizontal on her way down to the ground. It looked like it fell in line with the anchor line she set as she went back up. Incredible. Maybe reinforcement? There is so much more I'd like to learn about the finer points of web mastery and silk work. As I've pointed out in earlier blogs, many spiders have up to 5 distinct silks dependent upon the function and desired application. Pretty fascinating stuff, for sure.

And just as quickly, up she came; putting in place some more framing.

I am again reminded how joy can be generated and shared in the simple observance of Nature's creatures through out God's Universe.

"The ways that Lead to You - the ways that Lead to me...

The Light that is within me - is the Light I need to see."



The vision of the spirit is what truly illuminates our souls. It provides the light of wisdom for life's darker nights.

The lantern is within us. The contrails of wisdom waft in front of us, backlit by the setting sun and rolling clouds, reminding us that another revolution brings another evolution... closer to what is real...further from the illusions...closer to the oneness with our Creator. Closer to ourselves.

And to myself...

 

"Open my eyes...that I may see wondrous things from Your law."

                                                                                      -PS 119:18

Pictured above is Ms. Neo's 'Day hut'. She uses her silk to shape the cone and fill in the gaps. Wonderfully ingenious.

 

 

 

Equally so is her picturesque web work; anchored to the ground and to points across the tree.

She has a series of lines she can navigate to reach her hut.

"In tragic life, God wot,
No villain need be.
Passions spin the plot...We are betrayed
by what is false within."
                                        -George Meredith

 

 

 

 Larger orb-weaving spiders can dispatch anchor line silks over 20 feet, though they do not always catch a desirous anchor point.

This line was nearly 25 feet from a large oak tree, across a pathway and clear area to the bushes on the other side.
 

 "He opened their understanding... that they might comprehend..."
                                                                                       -Luke 24:25

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fall is rising along Gossamer Trail 

 

 

Starting my third Fall season here in North Carolina, I remain truly amazed at the bursting of new blooms, sounds and sites that surpass the simple falling of leaves.

 

There is a blend here that fuses, what are for me, the more traditional elements of Fall; with a magical, mystical pallet of life and activity. A second-Spring of sorts...

 

I'm sure this is precisely what attracts so many to this part of the country; mixing familiarity with newness; a stimulating combination with the etxremes shaved off at the ends; no Fargo 'frigid' and conversely; no Mississippi 'melt-down'. The locals may take this for granted. The 'transplants'; particularly those from points north, find it delightfully delectable.

 

 

-From the first week of September; a sampling of Nature's treats along my backyard path. Enjoy!

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One must watch for the 'road signs' along the Gossamer Trail... they come in all shapes and sizes.

 

 

 

With Gossamer Trail clearly in sight...

 

 

 

 

 

It's likely September when the spectacular Golden Orb Weavers make their silk work known. This lady (Argiope Aurantia) has gotten quite used to Keeli and I checking in and taking her picture!     The zig-zaggy (cribellate) weave is a tell-tale to identifying her.

 

 

Each knat in that extra-sticky capture spiral is one less potential bite... on my neck or ankle.

 

Bon Appetite Girl! Eat hardy...

 

... along the Gossamer Trail.

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

"When you pray

Do not pray to change that

which is about you...

or around you...

or surrounds you

 

 

 

Rather;

Pray to change that

which is within you...

 

 

 

and the sin you refuse to accept;

God has already

forgiven you."

 

 

                                                                                   GML  30 Aug 2014

Both Sides of the Story

(We need to hear...)

 

 

Last Sunday was a long run. For me, anyway. Twelve miles or so.

 

The Twin Cities Marathon is only a short six weeks away. Got to build up some miles and get the benefits of all these darn hills around here. I can rationalize those 12 miles comping out at a good 15 or more on the flats somewhere. So goes the mind of a distance runner...

 

About three miles to go, and with a mind-set that's generally focused and intent upon finishing, I realize I'm coming up upon two teens down the road a half mile ahead. Black, male teens... baggies, one with a ball-cap askew... and soon the smell of those relatively fragrant cigarillos getting stronger as I get closer...

 

They have no clue I'm upon them until I come aside. They get startled! What? Tall, White guy... fluorescent yellow singlet and red, white and blue flag shorts... Whoa!?!  Got the visual?

 

My mind goes to Ferguson. I realize it went there 100 yards prior and I was in a zone.

 

We're all connected...

 

One of the boys had head phones on. (nice ones) He said something. Some words of surprise with a street inflection. I turned and back-pedaled for a few steps...smiled and gave a hand wave of sorts..."Didn't mean to scare ya fellas.."

 

"Nice to see ya... have a nice day"... as I turned back around to see where I was running, trying not to wander out into the roadway and the Sunday morning church traffic.

 

I felt the tension. I wanted to. I needed to.

 

I can't speak for the boys. After a couple hundred yards, I was regretting not stopping to walk with them; engage them and see if they would respond. Maybe ask them about Ferguson. I decided to do it and turned around.

 

They were gone.

 

 

 

So this morning's run was a baby one. Four miles. The Tuesday run after a long Sunday run is a pretty good indicator of how the body is responding. Lactate build-up/dissipation stuff. The hips, soles of my feet, general snap to the muscles... I was pleased about how it started off. Got spider-silked (running through those proverbial bridge-strands across the path; usually between two trees or some areas of shrubbery) a couple good ones down along the path. That's part of the ritual now.

 

Nice and cool and since I would not drown out the ear buds with sweat, ran with tunes too. Nice time of year where the mornings are getting cooler and a bit less humid so music becomes an option again.

 

Phil Collins... a favorite...second tune comes up; a classic story anthem:

 

"Find yourself in the gutter in a lonely part of town
Where death waits in the darkness
With a weapon to cut some stranger down

Sleeping with an empty bottle
He's a sad and an empty hearted man
All he needs is a job and a little respect
So he can get out while he can...

 

We always need to hear both sides of the story"

 My mind-set is formed for the next 40 minutes. (And the rest of the day)

There's a vision that becomes a part of a deep need I feel to bring healing...

There is Officer Darren Wilson. He is one of two who know the truth. He is one of one that can tell it.
I'm feeling compelled after a mile and a half to reach out to him. To tell him, implore him, support him... to Tell the Truth... for all parties involved. And him. We need truth...

"A neighborhood peace is shattered
It's the middle of the night young faces hide in the shadows
While they watch their mother and father fight

He says she's been unfaithful
She says her love for him has gone
And the brother shrugs to his sister and says
"Looks like it's just us from now on"

 

We always need to hear both sides of the story"

Officer Wilson is approaching the seated mother of Michael Brown. She is in a long rose-colored dress draped to the floor. Their eyes meet... and their souls connect...from different sides of the story...opposing ends of the universe...

 

He drops to his knees like the weight of the world is rested upon his shoulders... the ground rumbles... and after a moment, drops his head into the mother's lap, the mother who just buried her son.

 

He begins to sob... and tells her how sorry he is... He had not intended to kill anyone that fateful day. Or any day. He only desired to do his job and make it home.

 

She is at first indifferent...looking upward and uneasy about the scene, the others surrounding her, the onlookers and amazed... Then her mothering instincts take over; she releases an eternal sigh as she looks down upon the grief-stricken man. As her entire body gravitates downward to his, as if through some resonant force, her hands move to each side of his head; they move down to each of his shoulders and she grasps then releases her strong hands in a way that tells him the hate and anger are being released... for ever... her fingers stroke the hair he has alongside his head and then caresses his neck. He feels the weight of the world lifted from him.

 

And  she tells him it's going to be ok...'its going to be ok...thank you for telling me you're sorry'...She tells him she is sorry too... And a tear runs down her cheek and continues down the side of his face.

 

The world around them stops for a moment...bewildered, amazed and awe-struck...

 

And re-connected.

 

And the lights are all on, the world is watching now
People looking for truth, we must not fail them now
Be sure, before we close our eyes
Don't walk away from here till you hear both sides

no no no...

 

In the vision, a mother and her son... above and behind...

 

It is about mothers and sons...



 

Here we are all gathered in what seems
To be the center of the storm
Neighbors once friendly now stand each side
Of the line that has been drawn

They've been fighting here for years
But now there's killing on the streets...
 

We always need to hear both sides of the story

 

 

 

And the lights are all on, the world is watching now
People looking for truth, we must not fail them now
Be sure, before we close our eyes
Don't walk away from here till you see both sides

 

oh no no no

 

 

We always need to hear both sides of the story

 

 

 both sides of the story...

 

 

Finishing the run this morning, there was a woman on the sidewalk coming toward me. Power-walking. Headphones on. a Black woman... Our eyes made contact as I approached and we both smiled and waved. Not enough.

 

I needed interaction. Engagement. I ran across the street in a non-threatening way. Smiled again. Put out my hand. And she took it. We connected. That's all. Both continued on our way.

 

Thinking how Nature's grandest storms begins with a flutter of a butterfly's wings... a ripple from a wind-blown grain of sand that initiates a tidal wave of amazing proportions... and how over 50,000 miles of running were always dependent on just a small step at a time... and then another.

 

I'm confident that the few cars that passed me before I turned onto Broadview to finish this morning could not distinguish the sweat... from the tears.

 

I could.

 

And if I could get a million people to share the vision, we could change the world forever. Maybe even 100,000 would do it. Could only take 1000...

 

Maybe just a little flutter. Can you feel it?

 

Can you hear the wind...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Portals to Heaven

Happened to bring the camera the other morning on the trail walk with Keeli. There was a special presence in the air... some late summer blooms and a magical interplay with the light and the mist...
Like tears of grace, the dew clung to the special places... of light and of love.

Found out later that morning that a very dear friend's mother had just passed. CJ was blessed with being at her side, joined by her daughter.

The last few months had been challenging. CJ cared for her mother in a beautiful way with dignity and grace. And faith. I'm quite sure her mother was so grateful and proud of the daughter she had raised and nurtured. Now, the cycle had come complete.

The revolution became the evolution.

These pictures are dedicated to you, my dear friend.

And to you, as well.

For we are all connected.

Forever and today.