It was summer in the 'Guay, (an affectionate term) and the weather was truly prone to some heavy summer showers. I remember walking along the road near the chapel after a drenching rainfall, my yellow rubber boots making a sucking, squishing noise on the sidewalk. There, in the voids of the wrought iron fence was the most amazing piece of artistic wonder. Hanging, suspended by just a few strands, glistening with the jewels of rain, was this wonderfully strong creation of nature. Did you know that a spider's web is strong? I doesn't seem to be when we carelessly whisk them from the corners of our homes with dusters and damp rags. They simply disappear into grayish clumps of 'stuff' on the end of our cloth. It is said that a web is as strong as steel when compared at the same weight. How very interesting.
There are a number of comparisons I could come up with tonight about the strength of something so flimsy looking, or the seemingly destructive beauty of something so innocent looking, but I won't. I just love the phrase, spider's cloth. While you may not agree, it seems a bit like poetry to me. I love the image. It is something I've been thinking about al day as I have a couple of scenes running through my head. It would be easy to get caught up into the minutia of details or forget them entirely in order to complete the idea. A delicate balance between too much and too little.