My version of peace

My version of peace

Friday, September 9, 2011

And along came a spider...

Right off the bat, I woke up this morning to an unexpected visitor perched on my bedroom ceiling.  As my sleepy eyes cleared, I saw Mr. spider gingerly making his way to the space of ceiling that is directly over my sleeping area.  Fighting off the urge to close my eyes for a few moments more rest, I continued to eye the spider staring down at me from the ceiling.  There I was, locked into a staring contest.  In a horrified fascination I kept my eyes glued to his position on the ceiling.  Through my mind various thoughts tumbled.  I argued that he needn't pull any fast moves on me; I pleaded that he stay where he was; I wondered at how he had found his way to my room.
If anyone has ever had a staring contest with a spider, you cannot deny the pure adrenaline rush that occurs during the game play; the anticipation that builds as you and the spider hold your respective stances.  Primal reactions kick in.  Muscle tension builds, as both parties prepare themselves for fight or flight.  And as is naturally to be expected, the human typically loses his patience and goes in for the kill.  I have never been very clean when it comes to this step.  I usually create more excitement for myself by missing the spider completely when I get brave enough to get a good run at him.  And then of course by the time that I regain my composure to try again, he has backed into an impossible corner and has scrunched himself soooo small that my attempts to finish him off are in vain.  
For all you spider lovers out there who keep a jar by your bed in order to gently "trap" the spider and set him back outside amongst your tomato plants, I understand that you might hold an opposing view to my assertions this morning.  You may argue that the spider didn't choose to have his space invaded by man, that we have developed his natural habitat for our own benefit, that we didn't ask him for permission.  You may make excuses for the spider's behavior, claiming that spiders are on the receiving end of our brutality; that they are merely acting out of fear and that we assume the worst in their behavior.  Before this morning I might have agreed with those valid points.  
As I contemplated my morning visitor, I waited to see what his intentions were.  I had my suspicions, but I kept them to myself and waited.  I didn't have to wait long however.  Suddenly he dropped.  Just let go.  There was no gentle repell on a silver single thread of webbing.  He broke our stare down and made a break for it.  Before my eyes, I witnessed Mr. spider attempting to jump me.  I say attempted because my primal muscle reactions quickly sprang into action.  Sleep suddenly had no more hold on me.  I was awake.  There was no doubt that I was now completely in my day.  No turning back.  
So what do you have to say for yourselves spider activists?  Drat, I didn't catch the whole thing on tape...however I don't know if there are any excuses that can be made for my spider the stalker's behavior this morning.  As far as I'm concerned, that is about as pre-imptive as you can get!  That sneaky son of a gun got himself into prime position and tried to take advantage first thing in the morning, folks.  I was not ready with toilet paper in tow for that one.  He knew what he was doing.  And I rest my case.