Still life
The potted Phalaenopsis orchid on my bedside table has squeezed out a third flower. Each is a purplish-pink, and rather than appearing at intervals along the same stem--the practice which achieves its distinct silhouette--the confused plant has created an abundance of short stems, each with one flower or what could be the makings of a future one.
This morning a spider began to festoon web between the tallest flower and the stem. Ordinarily I am not over-fond of spiders, but as this one is approximately the size of a sesame seed I am able to forgive the transgression. It's not often that this act of creation takes place in such close proximity; generally I see only the finished product, beautiful until a successful catch tears the delicate fabric, destroying the intricate pattern. In this instance I was privy to various stages of development, from the framework to the neatly woven result. Sesame crouches at the centre, having so far captured only minuscule particles of dust.
This morning a spider began to festoon web between the tallest flower and the stem. Ordinarily I am not over-fond of spiders, but as this one is approximately the size of a sesame seed I am able to forgive the transgression. It's not often that this act of creation takes place in such close proximity; generally I see only the finished product, beautiful until a successful catch tears the delicate fabric, destroying the intricate pattern. In this instance I was privy to various stages of development, from the framework to the neatly woven result. Sesame crouches at the centre, having so far captured only minuscule particles of dust.