Whatever my outdoor chores these days, I seem to find myself face-to-face with spiders. Luckily, I’m not arachnophobic, because it seems like I’m almost constantly flicking them off my clothes or brushing their webs off my arms. I know next to nothing about arachnids, other than what I learned from reading Charlotte’s Web. Therefore, I can only surmise that they’ve read the Farmer’s Almanac, know when a killing frost is due, and have launched a feeding-frenzy until such date.
I got a shot of this big spider, a resident of my Frau Dagmar Hastrup rose, eating her breakfast this morning. Her belly is bigger than my thumbnail. Does she, like me, need to watch her intake of carbs? Or is she an expectant mother, full of eggs that are nearly ready to be laid? Will she, like Charlotte, die soon afterwards? Does she know what’s about to happen? Is she afraid?
“There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life - fear of death, fear of judgment - is one not yet fully formed in love.” –1 JOHN 4:18