And this morning was golden with its warm cidery light and crisp frosted patio when I got up to take the dogs out. There were strange shoots of slender light criss-crossing the meadow like hairline lasers made of pure sunlight. Spider lines, thirty-forty feet long. The sunlight was also creating tiny lens flares in my eyelashes, and I couldn’t tell what was lash and what was web.
Back in the house, I made coffee and sat in bed writing. After a bit I paused to scroll through social media and it was full of losses. One friend had lost his younger brother. “No words,” he said. Another lost a grandma and spoke of his heavy heart and the corn she used to bait him with. And then, a friend posted a video of the little sunlight lasers of spiderweb in her yard this morning. “I made 7 seconds of video,” she wrote, “and a breeze came along and it was gone.” She quoted Vipassana teacher Jack Kornfield who said:
the trouble is, you think you have time.