We took a quiet, mid-morning walk on Saturday, along the somewhat overgrown logging roads of a small Duke Forest Tract. This was one of those walks intended primarily for exercise. But if you only want exercise, you don’t go to the woods, you go to the track. And so, choosing the woods, we knew we would get more than just exercise.
The trail ended up being more of a spider-web gauntlet than a clear path through the trees. In warm seasons, you always prepare for spider webs on trails, though this day held more webs than could be imagined…or seen. Those unseen webs were the spoilers. In addition to flies, moths, and humans, those webs catch and hold sunlight suspended in air. But when sunlight hides behind clouds or becomes obscured by the shadow of a leafy canopy, the webs disappear. And that is when you find yourself surprisingly face first in the sticky mess…repeatedly.
Heather found, that by walking directly behind me, the webs would cease to entangle her. Amazing. Later on, I also discovered that when we simply swapped leads, I too could magically elude the spider web snares. It’s a funny thing how one’s depth perception, ocular focus, and awareness affects one’s ability to dodge the traps. For example: I think I see a web about 10 feet in front of me, and it looks to be safely overhead…but then I see a turkey feather on the ground and after picking it up and excitedly displaying it to Heather…WHAM!, I’m webfaced. Or as I notice that Heather is about to catch one at shin level, I gallantly alert her to it by pointing down; then WHAM!, I’m webfaced again.
Gradually, our highly evolved brains outsmarted the spiders’ and we walked in relative comfort and certainty. We were able to eventually even appreciate the spiders for their beauty and craft…despite the periodic itching followed by the familiar question “is there a spider on my back?”
"Is there a spider on my back?"
