I RIDE WITH A SPIDER COMPANION:

I was driving up to New York, but hadn't gotten a mile from my house when something caught the corner vision of my left eye.
Something was bouncing in the breeze. I realized it was a spider. I think at one time or another I've had a spider on my rearview mirror in cars I've had in the past. I remember one reeled out on a strand of his own silk like a kite from my antenna. But I never had one LIVING in my side rear view mirror. He tends to his web, and then goes behind the mirror. I wondered if it would hurt him if I used the electrical adjustment of the mirror... it may squash him. I just had to do it. It was just a little tilt. Later I was to find out he was fine.

He's an orb spider... one that builds those intricate webs that look like a lace doily tatted by someone with great skill. I love the look of those webs covered with morning dew. But this poor spider has to keep repairing the web after I go 50 mph or over. Today Tom and I were going to his 60th Class Reunion... he graduated in 1951. He was driving when the spider came out to either repair his web while we were whipping through the air at about 55 mph. He was bouncing on his web like a yo-yo. I introduced Tom to my pet traveling companion. I looked to my right, and saw that there also was a web on the right mirror. I wondered if it was his, or perhaps a mate? Maybe an offspring. I haven't seen that spider yet. "Do you think he has two webs" I asked Tom. I didn't really expect an answer. My not trying to get rid of the spider doesn't surprise Tom. But I was afraid if Tom suddenly saw him, like I did as a rider in the car, it would affect his driving. It didn't. The spider seemed twice as big as I remembered him. Spiders scare me... at the same time they fascinate me.

When the children were young, I stopped Joanna from stepping on ants. I said that they all had a place on this earth, and a reason for being here. I would tell the kids these things, and realize I was telling myself as well. A kid's sense of wonder is a joy to an adult, as they can not only relive that wonder through their eyes, but they can feel a deeper sense of the miracle of perfection found in tiny insects ...and not so tiny spiders. Where we lived in Vestal, N.Y. once in awhile we would see a huge spider... probably a leg span of 4-5 fingers wide... not that I'd put my hand near enough to see. If in the house I'd trap them in a plastic container, and throw them outside. I knew they wouldn't be hurt by my tossing them. But I couldn't stand it if it was on my body or clothing. I'd go into gyrations that would probably throw every joint out of place. I can't stand the things, but I also hate to kill them. Now if there's one on the ceiling, I'll poke near it with anything to make it bail out on its bungee strand of web, and I'd have a plastic or glass container to catch it, AND a scissors to cut the web. Then throw it out the door, holding on to the plastic container. You don't even have to put a lid on it... they can't get a grip on plastic ...like a Cool Whip container. They'd probably figure an escape somehow, but I wouldn't wait to see how.

So, back to my arachnid car companion. I wonder how long he'll last... or she will last. Maybe I'll call it Charlotte. I also wonder if it can see itself in the mirror. Wouldn't that be a kick... here it is out in the breeze, and he sees another in the nether world of the mirror holding on for its life as well.

Life is fascinating. Always a miracle, always a wonder.