Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves, an expression that conjures up thoughts of colorful foliage and chilly afternoons but other signs of the time are evident at this time.

Autumn also brings about thoughts of leaving, departing and permanence in action. At some point this summer, kind of late, a cat-faced spider took up residence just above my door such that I could also see it through the window by the door. I really don't recall when she arrived but I recognized her species and left there since she could guard my door from potential bug invasions and she reminded me of the story, Charlotte's Web, which I am convinced was about a cat-faced spider. I would talk to her when I went outside to tend to plants on the porch or just coming and going.

I really hadn't looked into the life cycle or anything about this spider but I knew she was a good spider and would not venture to violate my indoor space or bite me so I let her stay. I found it comforting to see her when she was out tending the web during the twilight hours and fascinated at the structure of the web itself. The web had anchoring strands attached to the porch light, the windowpane... quite the structure to hold it in place against the stout winds that pass through here, a web of at least a yard in diameter requires some bracing for wind. I decided to call her Charlotte.

This weekend it was pretty windy and I saw her in the middle of the web Saturday evening, I can see her little crevice where she hides, clearly visible when standing in the doorway. She got really big, close to half dollar size including legs. I noticed Sunday that there was a small tear in the web which I expected her to mend by morning but she didn't. I kept checking but she hasn't moved so I looked up the species online.

This kind of spider is a summertime friend and behaves like I described but once the time comes, the web maven lays her eggs and puts them in a silky purse to hatch come spring and then she expires. So, as the web, really the remains, are in tatters and by Wednesday I expect it to be almost completely gone, her skeleton is still perched up in the crevice above the door. I bid her farewell after reading about her life cycle, burned a little sage and thanked her for entertaining me during the summer, almost like having a care-free pet.

Feels a little melancholy knowing she's passed but I have the anticipation through the winter of watching for her offspring next year.

And so it goes, the summer friend arrives and come autumn, leaves.