Dear Friends,
Warmer weather has meant some late spring cleaning in our home, which includes our annual window washing. We have an old house with old storm windows, and so this is no small feat – which is why Mark has been doing the job for over 20 years now. He brings his ladder and buckets and sponges and squeegees, and sometimes a helper or two. In a few hours, the winter and spring’s accumulation of pollen, dust and streaks are wiped clean and we can enjoy much clearer views.
Mark was scheduled for his yearly cleaning this past Wednesday. In the weeks leading up to his visit, I noticed that a small black spider had set up shop in my kitchen window. In the space between the interior panes and the storm glass, she had spun a web in one corner. Attached to was a small egg sac, which was about the size of my smallest fingernail. While I didn’t relish the idea of hundreds of teeny spiderlings exploding from this cocoon at some point, I reassured myself that my windows were airtight and they couldn’t possibly get inside.
As I stood at the sink each day, washing dishes or leaning against the counter sipping my hot tea, I would find myself glancing in the corner of my window to see whether the spider was still there, whether she had moved and what was happening with the egg sac. It never crossed my mind that my kitchen spider might be evacuated from her home on window washing day.
But the morning following Mark’s visit, when I was at the sink, I looked in my corner for my familiar arachnid squatter. She and any silken traces of her web and sac were gone, swept away no doubt by suds and spray. I felt a moment of remorse, but also felt some relief that my theory about my impenetrable windows wouldn’t be tested.
And, then a funny thing happened. This morning, as I was at my kitchen sink, I looked through my window, and there she was! The spider, along with her egg sac, had reclaimed their corner spot and both were hanging in a newly-woven web. I’ve since learned that spiders sometimes carry their egg sacs with them, which I imagine this one must have done when she sensed danger in the form of a giant foam sponge and rubber squeegee blade. Even spiders, it seems, possess a strong instinct for a place to call home, just as we humans do . . . something we’ll be exploring more in this Sunday’s worship service.
I think I better get out the caulk.
Yours,
Terry