Spin, Spin, Spin

I never cared much for spiders.

This summer was no exception. Our house is in the woods, and I’ve become accustomed to seeing webs draped here, there, and everywhere. But this year’s spider season seemed over the top, especially when measured by the quantity of spider poop I scrubbed—repeatedly and begrudgingly—off the siding.

Then, one little silk spinner made me reconsider my arachnid animus.

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Mystery of the Moth

A giant moth landed in our swimming pool.

It couldn’t swim, but not for lack of trying. The moth pushed and pulled its wings, as though doing the breaststroke. Bert pulled the creature from the water.  The soaked moth flapped its wings, turning quarter circles on the pool deck.

But the hot concrete was scorching my bare feet. I thought the insect might fry before it had a chance to dry out and fly.

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