Hypocrite; Ninjas

What would it have done, really?  I saw a Hobo spider yesterday on my wall, it was belaying down the wall attached to a string of web.  I went into my closet and decided which of my shoes was least important and would be OK to get spider guts all over it.  I couldn't help myself, it was like it must be done.  I murdered an animal.  I killed a spider and I did it because it made me feel fear.  Why is it that some spiders deeply and fatally harm humans?  Psychology would say that the fear of spiders, or a mere negative and startling reaction to spiders, is a long developed and adapted defense mechanism that humans have created over time with experience to the exposure of spiders.  Technically speaking, our ancestors unknowingly attempted to be friendly with spiders and received bites of fatal and gruesome consequence and since this same negative experience has happened since the dawn of time, it has become genetically conditioned within humans to be fearful of spiders - we subconsciously know that they are harmful to us.  My main question here though is, why would a spider need to be fatally harmful or just painfully harmful to humans?  What exactly is it that we are competing for that a spider would need to be able to debilitate a human?  Like many other insects, spiders drink blood - and us humans sure do have a lot of that, not to mention a strong heart that pumps it right out of any opening at a steady pace.  To what extent must we fear spiders and how do we avoid a sleepless night with one eye open staring at the spider on the ceiling that we let go, or avoid being bitten, and how do we avoid being animal murderers as well?  The role of 'image' and the 'visual' is really what plays into the fear aspect here because, not to frighten anyone but, I can only imagine how many spiders crawl across the bed or linger in close proximity on a regular basis that we don't get bitten by and don't sense fear of merely because we don't see them - we aren't aware that they are there. 

These guys are ninjas I tell you, stealthy, lethal ninjas. 

The Incarcerated Spider

Spider with no shackles, spider with no chains you witness the guilty and guiltless in their coming and goings, all the inmates called by their last names.  It is strange to me how a spider can make its way into a prison, past steel doors and all measures of security and that this spider can also travel from my visiting booth to yours – like a ninja it makes its way through the ventilation systems and covers every square inch of the ‘max security’ facility; nature makes this place look like a joke.  The spider broke the moment of confinement for me, the spider made me realize that the prison is a façade, , it is a power structure where which all the inmates play in the game.  I’ve always thought of the prison as a deviant and demented zoo, holding all the most dangerous animals together in one place.  The spider is a perfect symbol, a symbol that has recently dawned on me when a spider decided to show itself in the jail.  The spider is actually very similar to all of those behind bars because society tends to act the same way towards a spider as they do those that are labeled as ‘criminal’.  You see a spider and your mind says things like ugly, scary, gross, awful, going to hurt me, going to get me in my sleep, must be killed, must die, must destroy it, must capture it, and most of all, must not let it get away!  You hear of, think of, or see a ‘criminal’ (a person in jail) and think the very same things.  How can a spider become beautiful if we don’t change our perception of it?  How can a spider show us the wonderful things that it was created to do if we never give it a chance to make it out of our death penalty?  No one can speak for the spider, testify and object, be the defense - no one can say ‘this spider is innocent’.  Does this mean that an inmate has more of a chance at redeeming his name than a tiny creature of eight legs?  We need to listen to nature, to the animals and the insects.  They will tell us something guaranteed as long as we are willing to learn.  I didn’t kill that spider I saw that day in the prison, I left him alone and let him be.  In fact I felt sorry for him in that very moment and finally understood how like many other creatures and animals, even our own species, are judged by mere appearance, species, race, age, class, gender – and are often times never given a chance to be liberated or to be seen as something more than their outer shell.  Shame on the people that are so quick to condemn the spider that has not even had a chance at trial; shame the person that calls all spiders evil, poisonous, dangerous, and deserving of death – take a minute to recognize your ignorance and ask a spider what he has seen.  This spider, with eight eyes, living amongst the condemned, the trapped, the incarcerated, sees more than what many people will ever see - it sees those in captivity.  And when the spider crosses the threshold on any given sunny day, the spider scampers out faithfully and courageously off to send a message of S.O.S and help! – off to tell the rest of nature stories about what the human does to it’s own species.  And along this spiders journey outside of the prison walls, the prison gates, I can’t help but wonder if he stops and thinks ‘But, wait, I too am among those that are seen as criminals – maybe I should stay.’ 

Spider Swing

The spider holds on to her web in the wind,
she does not blow away
while her hundreds of spider-lings are swept
like little surfers catching a wave.
Sky-diving, rock-climbing and belaying down the mountain-side,
free-falling, no stopping, catching another afternoon joy-ride. 
Little orange spiders as tiny as can be,
floating in the wind and connected by a string,
a silky thread of web tracing back to the nest.
What does momma think as she watches them leap
off the edge of the deck or off the old rusty chains of a swing? 
Is she watching each one with all eight eyes
and allowing some motion, some form of goodbye?

Shifting from Surrouding to Insect Specificity

It’s so cold, why is winter so cold?  A bird calls some crazy rhythm , some crazy chirp, an embellished noise that slides down a musical scale but, not one that I am familiar with and I can’t see him anywhere.  They hide so well and move so quickly – phantoms of grace and swift release.
What about the Earthly colors of Alaska – why is winter so drab?  Everything seems to carry a darkened tone, fogged over, frozen and alone – even the people, the humans choose to stay in their homes.  And then there is hibernation, the ultimate hide-away.  Winter is so rash; what if winter stayed?  I imagine the insects, all micro-millions of them, completely frozen in time, awaiting the thaw of Spring.  How do their tiny hearts beat?  Is it quick and rapid or slow and very few?  You can’t hear a thing, you can’t feel a thing, you would never know that an insect is near you. 
Climate.
Climate determines insect type and population – the same could be said for people too.  You don’t see many butterflies in Alaska do you?  If I wanted to be a butterfly where would I move?

And the tress when they freeze!  Oh how must it feel?  When all the veins and juices just harden and all the leaves peel away, fly away, fall away, and shed.  Just another ring on the old post eh?  But, the trees they stand so tall and so strong and they whisper to us “We will keep you breathing so you can keep on believing that one day you’ll be a butterfly.”

Spider Bite at Night

Have you ever heard the fun-fact about humans eating about 1-3 spiders a year during their sleep?  From what I can remember, this statistic is reinforced with the fact that spiders gravitate towards carbon-dioxide, which we produce when we exhale.  Now if you are like me, and your significant other always reminds you that sometimes you sleep with your head back and your mouth wide open, well – there’s a pretty high chance that I’ve caught all the spiders that both him and I were destined to consume per year, although I can say I’ve seen him sleeping the same way many, many times; no, I’m not hogging all the 8-legged protein.  I do know that I haven’t been bit by a spider since I was a little girl at summer camp, sleeping in a wood cabin but, I have seen a spider bite on Brad’s knee before and it was huge, red, and looked like a huge pimple waiting to be popped – which is sort of how it resolved itself in the end – gross!  I guess there have been a few people in Juneau that have ended up in the hospital due to spider bites – from what I believe was the Brown Recluse, mind you – this was years ago that the last patient was reported in the newspaper.  I remember one day in highschool a friend of mine, Chad, came into class saying that he was bitten by a brown spider earlier that day.  He showed me where the bite was and it was a rather small mark but the strangest thing was what was following the mark.  There was a dark blue line going all the way up his arm and I told him that he might want to head in to the doctor because what it looked like to me was that the venom was spreading, and that his body was having a reaction.  As the day carried on I ran into him again and asked to see the blue ‘poisoned’ vein and sure enough it had grown in length and was making its way up to his shoulder and curving over into his chest.  I made him show the teacher and instantly the teacher sent him off to the office to call his parents and take him to the ER, I guess the poison had gotten pretty close to his heart as it progressed through his blood stream, and could have been a very bad situation had he waited a few more hours.  They gave him some ‘poison’ counteracting medicine and he came back to school where the blue line slowly began to subside.  Like I said, I haven’t experienced much to do with spider bites at all – maybe I don’t produce as much carbon-dioxide as other people, or perhaps those that get bitten more often in the night breathe harder, extending their spider bait further for a better chance that they will get a bite!

A Spiders Web

A spiders’ web has always been a symbol of beauty and complexity to me.  I wish I could capture the action of a spider spinning his web, from start to finish, in person.  The way rain lingers onto a web and looks like dew drops, little sparkles to illuminate the silky threads in the sunlight.  The texture of a web is strange as well, what about a web makes it sticky and flexible, stretchy and buoyant?  I can’t help but think of the saying ‘You’ve spun a web of lies’ and wonder why something so beautiful, such as a spiders web, has become a part of such an evil metaphor – a metaphor of dishonesty, disloyalty, and darkness?  I suppose, depending on what type of spider you are, sometimes the web doesn’t look so organized or pretty, sometimes its merely a mess of cob-web in the corner of a cabin.  I’m curious now, to see what type of spiders spin what type of web – which one’s spin the beautiful ones that stand out in nature for all to see, and which ones spin the death traps that you involuntarily run into or find behind the TV. 

Waiting for Nature to Find Me

Today I am angry and it feels difficult to sit here and write about nature because it is hard to believe the extent to which nature might understand human emotion.  In fact, human emotion is probably one of the primary things which separates us from nature in general – yet will we ever know if a wilting flower is sad?

Maybe nature does understand – it is a question I cannot let go of now. 

The roaring, lapping ocean seems to mimic the flow of my rage – seems to hear my anger and respond with that same growing strength of fear, danger, power, and vengeance; all of what this anger makes me feel. 

The best thing about animals for me has been their ability to respond to human emotion but, do they understand it?  Perhaps the beautiful part is that they don’t have to understand it, they sense it and for us, that is enough. 

The wind blows strong tonight and I wish for it to just blow my thoughts

away – to blow my pain into a million pieces and to carry it off, never to be seen or felt again.  I wish the wind would sweep me away and take me to a different place where the ocean didn’t sound so angry. 

Like the stars, I encourage you to try to see something within me – to try to reach me as best you can.  The ocean is vast just like the depths of my heart and soul that you will never see. 
But, just as the wind blows and changes day to day
I’ll be gone with the wind and only will come back again
Once the weather decides to change. 

From My Deck; No Sign of a Spider.

I want to dive in, I want to swim away.

It is very cold and raining but, this view is amazing and I am beginning to feel amazing as a cool breeze is blowing by.  Inhaling the cold and fresh ocean air has got to be one of the most refreshing feelings of all.  The color pallet is gray.  The low hanging clouds above the ocean, the shoreline, the water, beach and trees – all different shades of gray and the snow on the ground accentuates the contrast. 
There are no birds, it is silent except for the ocean lapping its waves in a soothing chorus, one that could so easily rock me to sleep. 
The cascading stairs from the deck down to the beach look jagged and false against the God-made land, such a contrast.   There is something very genuine about this spot – it holds many moments of introspection, many moments of human connection, and it also acts as a sanctuary for the lonely longing gaze. 
There is one tree that stands tallest amongst the rest.  It’s branches are short and nimbly and the tree itself is even quite thin yet it stands very bold and strong looking out over all the other trees – who knows its age?  It stands directly in front of the panoramic view of the ocean but this tree will never be cut for mere reasons of aesthetic beauty – it resonates, it is THE tree. 
I wonder where the Eagles have gone?  They too love this tree.  Maybe soon they will come to visit me during my lonely longing gaze of introspection – come back Eagle, come back. 

I want to jump off, I want to fly away.