Yesterday morning I couldn’t sleep after Michael left for work. At just before six, the morning mist over the golf course was beautiful. Soft lighting is perfect for photography. I took my new camera and ventured out the back door.
I was drawn by the broad landscape, but I was rapt by the details, mainly water droplets on everything: the grass, the chair, the grill, flower petals. Best of all were tiny webs strung between blades of grass. Wet spider webs could be the most beautiful images in the world. I crouched in the yard, my pajama pants clinging to my wet ankles, and tried to frame the web perfectly. The spider sensed motion and took her place in the center of the web.
Anyone who hates spiders has never seen one like this: a red dot guarding her strand of pearls. So delicate. God taught this spider to weave the most fantastic thing. Does the spider know her web is beautiful? Or does she only see its function? Everything in creation is ordered and purposeful. In the soft morning, human noises and busyness haven’t spoiled it yet. These early hours are pristine.
The world as I know it slowly came alive. First the golf course employee on his little tractor. Then the Saturday morning golfers, their voices clear across the green. The fountains gurgled to life at 8 a.m. My upstairs neighbors came on with the fountains. I turned my thoughts to the Popcorn Festival. I love this town. It’s quaint in the right ways. I love this apartment. Not just because it’s our first place.
I am so blessed.