Call me simple-minded. Apparently, it does not take much to amuse me. This afternoon, as I was chatting with my dear, ninety year old friend, on the phone, I happened to spot a cat in our yard. He was hanging out, all scrunched down, by a pine tree that Jim planted a few years ago. The black cat, with a white “bib,” was intending to “hunt,” but what was he after?
Then, I spotted small birds swooping low, flying back and forth, and the cat was ready. On several occasions, he leapt into the air about four feet, but was unsuccessful to grasp a bird in his claws. He went back to laying low and then thought he spotted something in the garden. He crept daintily, putting one white paw after the other, slowly proceeding ahead. When he reached the garden’s edge, he pounced purposely into a bunch of dead Coreopsis, but again came up with nothing good to eat. Goodness knows what he thought he saw.
This was high drama, but nothing compared to another situation I’d been observing. First, there had been a ladybug climbing up the outside of the window. When I looked again, I saw a spider. Then, I realized that the spider was building a web around the ladybug, saving this tender morsel for another day’s lunch.
I was so distracted by the cat and by the other creatures, I had a difficult time concentrating on the telephone conversation, even though my friend and I always have vital things to discuss. Today, we talked about the cost of things in Canada, the Iraq war, and the state of health care. She has not lost any of her mental acuity, and is as sharp as ever. She tells me that she always learns something new every time we talk, and I would have to say the same.
Nature is wonderful, and sometimes the struggles of life and death in that world, go unnoticed. Yet, we all have just one life to live on this earth, and any life is important to the being that is experiencing it, even a ladybug.
Those are my musings for the day.
Pat, from the Spider’s Web
