The Chance Chatter of Chameleons

Spring is slowly emerging. While walking black dog in the early morning light I noticed a widersped spun in the peach trees. It was sparkling like a thousand diamonds as the early morning sun caught the frosty dew on its silken strands. The breeze moved the diamond covered silk about among the peach blossoms in the branches but never shook the diamond shards onto the ground below. Widerspeds are fantastic works of art and engineering. The arthropods that spin them are just as amazing. Tenacious, strong and self sufficient much like the three-year-old that once dubbed these spiderwebs widerspeds. Despite the fact she is no longer three and no longer calls them widerspeds, widerspeds to me they will forever be.

I remember the day she first called the spiderweb a widersped. It was before she learned that spiders bite, before she became afraid of insects. It was before she learned to be afraid, period. I envied her lack of inhibition, her lack of fear. She had an insatiable curiosity (she still does), she was in awe of the world. She thought widerspeds were magical, and beautiful. The creations of spiders who simply wanted a place to live (which is mostly true). She caused me to stop and look at widerspeds through the eyes of a three-year-old girl. From that day forward when I see them, I look at them differently. Don’t get me wrong, I am terrified of those multi-eyed, eight legged nasty little arthropods who can inject venom with their fangs, no three-year-old could make me forget that; but those widerspeds are fantastic.

Arthropods (as I will refer to them because it is far less creepy a word than spider) are able to create a protein-based silk from their own body. They can use this silk to build elaborate webs, they use the webs to catch their food. It is strong and versatile.  

Widerspeds, the creation of the arthropod, the beauty of the widersped at daybreak with the dew, the twilight after the rain, the strength and versatility; that is what life is, that is what love is, and friendship is as well. The silken strands of hope, of empathy, of communion, of connection. The strong and tenacious threads of friendship that blow in the wind while sparkling with diamond dew. You create these silky strands from somewhere deep inside of you, and you spin your own unique widersped in the world that sparkles and attracts others to admire your creation. Some, only pass by and look briefly, they don’t stop and “stick”. Others get wrapped up into your beauty just as you do theirs. When the strands break free, you weave again. You start over, you never give up.

The widersped was gone from the peach tree when I walked black dog tonight at dusk. I was a little bit disheartened. I was hoping to see the widersped had survived the wind today, that it had overcome. My widersped is a bit empty these days, most of the strands that connected me to the branches have broken loose. I am still connected to the tree, but only by a strand. I had hoped that diamond covered widersped had faired better than I.

Spin your widerspeds, when they break, continue spinning. Pause to marvel at the diamonds that collect on your marvelous widerspeds as they sparkle in the early sun as dawn breaks. Widerspeds and their beauty don’t last, but the beauty of a widersped is it can be spun anew again and again. As long as you see the beauty in the spinning you will forever see the world through a three- year- old’s eyes and your widersped will always be fantastical.