I found this fellow just outside my gate. He was about an inch and a half long. I’ve seen them here before but I can’t remember the name. Rotated one turn to the right, it looks like an African mask.
Click on first photo to enlarge all. By the way, that cute really big insect is a flu bug, urging us all to get our shots!
For Cee’s Challenge, “The Letter I.”
Spider on the ceiling, legs evenly spread round,
I can’t help but wonder what keeps you ceiling-bound.
Have you little suction cups welded to each foot,
and if so, has nature adequately put
each one on this spider far above my bed
so it will not disconnect and land upon my head?
I woke up much earlier than usual today, and after I posted my poem and photos, I went back to bed. I closed my eyes for a short time, then opened them and stared fixedly at the ceiling above the bed. It was not fully light in the room, but in the diffused light from the curtains which form a sort of scrim in the room, I could see a black blotch on the ceiling right above me. Trying to figure out what it was, I scrunched my eyes up and eventually made out lines radiating out from the center. It finally occurred to me that this might be a spider. Further scrunching determined that it was, indeed, a delicate-looking spider perhaps an inch or two in diameter. It hasn’t moved in the half hour or so it has taken for me to write its laudatory poem, locate my camera, arrange for adequate lighting and camera settings, shoot its portrait and to get posted. It will probably still be there tonight. If so, its fame will probably be expanded with another poem. If I remember.
For Cee’s B&W Challenge, Small Subjects.
For Cee’s flower prompt.
Best for Last
Just as I’m ready to ingest
the morsel I consider best
and so picked out from all the rest
to be my last bite, savored with zest—
last memory of this gourmet fest—
from north and south and east and west,
descends each winged little pest,
radared in on diabolical quest
as though invited at my behest.
They put my appetite to the test,
settling as though to the nest,
their hairy feet intimately pressed
upon that morsel that I loved best.
I wave my hand over them, lest
they eat too much, then I confess
I guiltily consume the rest.
The prompt today is pest.
It’s that time of year when flying termites descend by the thousands, chew off their wings and go in search of delicious wood to munch. These fellas thankfully got caught in a huge rainstorm that lasted for hours, pinning them by their wings. I woke up to drifts of them in places like these steps up to the garage. Kinda ghastly, but definitely oddball.