small things   Leave a comment

At the creek, fall afternoon, I sit on rock attending to the music of the water dropping over the edges of stone.

Across from me, the bank has eroded away at a turn in the water’s path, and two older trees display a maze of roots.

There, two petite wrens seek an apartment, chatting quietly to each other.

One fluffs his feathers, the other dips her beak into the pool under the new porch.

The sun sinks behind the woods,

A clot of gnats a vertical golden feedback loop against the dark trunks of trees.

 

 

Jumping spider.

Black and grey, but hard to say

As it’s perhaps 3 millimeters long.

Explores the interior of my Honda Fit.

Traveling busily along the dashboard, it valiantly leaps to the steering wheel, scales this Half Dome for minute spiders.

Its leap is half an inch.

Proudly, it surveys its new domain.

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Posted November 1, 2014 by swanatbagend in seeing

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