Day 231 Coming Home

July 28, 2015

(This is part of a 365 project during my 70^th year where I write and illustrate a blog on each day’s gift.)

Coming home always means a greeting of some kind. When she was alive, Misty the German shepherd named by our daughter, always greeted me excitedly at the top of the steps in our split-level house. Now she is gone and we have a cat named by my father. Misty the cat also greets us at the top of the stairs in the same spot as her canine predecessor. She does not wag her tail but, instead, displays a look that says, “Why are you so late? You humans need to feed me—like NOW.”

Actually, there is life greeting me even before I unlock the front door. My resident spider does no wagging or scolding but dances from spot to spot in her messy tangle web. When I go up the outside concrete steps, I stop and check out my spider’s pantry. Today I noticed two sandwich wraps, future meals. Halfway up the steps, I sat down and aimed my camera with its macro lens toward what I thought was a leggy nondescript spider. However, when I zoomed in, I was amazed at the spider’s beauty. Its long legs were either aqua or reflected bluish-green from its surroundings. The body wore a symmetrical design with blacks, whites, yellows, oranges and a blue center ellipse. 

I am glad I stopped to look. Sometimes beauty is revealed only when I look very closely at things that first appear to be ordinary. 

My gift today is hidden beauty revealed.

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Day 232: Carnivore

You can find links to my other posts on this project here:

http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html

Day 178 Sticky Silk

June 5, 2015

(This is part of a 365 project during my 70^th year where I write and illustrate a blog on each day’s gift.)

It seemed that the air was glistening right in front of me on the path. I took it as a sign to stop. If I had continued, three things likely would have happened:

• I would have ruined a masterpiece. 
•  My head probably would have been covered in fine sticky threads. 
•  My body might have become an unwilling runway for an arachnid.

The tiny yellow spider had almost completed a perfect web, which hung in the middle of the park’s walking path. The silky threads sparkled in the sunlight as I watched the spider make its way around the orb, spinning away.
 

I think there was a kind of existential Zen then—meditation, searching for a deeper meaning in life, and living in the now—for both the spider and the observer. There was also a thin place, a merging of sorts, where the spider and I existed only in that moment, the observer aware of the other and the observed immersed in its creation unaware.

I don’t know how long I lingered but when it was time to move on, I had to be careful moving forward because of the three things listed above. I picked up a long twig, looked closely, ducked low and waved the stick in front of my face. Lucky for both of us, I did not catch any of the strands attached to trees. I continued on my walk and the spider continued weaving. However, for the rest of my walk, I cautiously continued to wave my stick—I may be fascinated by spiders and their webs but I do not like them on me. For the rest of the walk, I waved my stick in a continuous infinity-shaped pattern.

My gift today is a moment of zen .

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> Day 179: X-Rated

You can find links to my other posts on this project here:

http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html