On Perseverance
Lessons from spiders
The spider in my carport was not having a good time. When I first spotted it — a Garden Orb Weaver (Hortophora sp, Araneidae) tucked away in the eaves — I thought it was a bat. That dark furry body all cwtched up in the corner, with two pairs of legs pointed forward, looking like folded wings… An easy mistake to make because it was a big spider.
I knew there would be a problem. When I went out to the car that evening, the spider had constructed its web across the carport. The threads spanned the entrance, almost four metres across. As I started the engine and put the vehicle into reverse, I hoped the spider would retreat to the ceiling. Otherwise, the surprise and joy of snaring the biggest meal of its life would turn rapidly to dismay as it found itself car surfing all the way into town and back.
The spider did scuttle upwards to safety. By the time I returned from town, it had patched the torn web. The threads looked perfect in the headlights. I even considered parking in the driveway but it was raining heavily by now. The spider scrambled into the ceiling again. As I drove under it, I could feel all eight beady eyes boring through the car roof. Four eyes were resigned, the others unforgiving. If it had been Charlotte the Barn Spider, the remade web would have included a few choice words, none of which I can write here.
