Clearing up in the kitchen this afternoon, I pulled up some tea-bags that had been draining in the sink... and spotted a slightly sodden spider clinging to one of them. I've no idea why I was slowly pulling the tea bags up by their labels like that, over the edge of the sink, as it is not something I usually do, but it was cool to see them emerge slowly over the side with the spider hanging on grimly.
I noted with delight the green body of the spider and smiled at the connections that came to mind, allowing it to crawl onto my hand as the dots glowed and I joined them. I noted this atypical behaviour, as in the past I've limited myself to handling the very little spiders. I've observed that spiders can move awfully fast when the mood strikes them; I've seen them suddenly run around like Ridgebacks during their hyperactive moment, dashing dizzyingly about for no apparent reason.
So, I let it crawl slowly over my hand as I took it outside, observing its beauty...
...the translucence of its long limbs, decorated with dots; its body in that beautiful shade of green, those beadlike pairs of eyes, the long shadows it so elegantly cast...
Feeling the urge to go for my iPhone and take a photo of it, I started to move with that intention but then remembered the phone was charging in my bedroom, right on the other side of the house and I thought it was a bit much to expect the spider to stay during transit, so I retraced my steps and walked towards some bushes instead. I considered placing it there while I retrieved my iPhone but knew the spider would disappear into the foliage, camouflaged by the greens. Again I started towards the house and again I turned back, stopping once more to observe the spider. Finally, I decided to act on my impulse: sharing with it my intention, we went indoors to fetch my iPhone. It was fully charged, I noted, and my green friend remained in place on my hand as we traversed the house.
Emerging into the sunlight again I stopped and looked at it 'through the glossy screen' this time as it wandered slowly across my hand, pausing ever-so-often and remaining still as I worked the camera and focused on it.
After taking several shots I set it in the bare branches of a creeper and smiled my thanks at it for playing with me. As I looked at it, I wondered: would it stay there long enough for me to take my big camera out, change lenses and return for some real macro shots? I thought then, was I asking for too much now?
This is something people sometimes chastise me for...
I smiled again at the spider. This is the thing with animals, they don't limit you with their thought forms... one of the many reasons I enjoy playing with them.
