Sunbeams visited my backyard yesterday and I went out to enjoy them with my notebook. Been spilling a lot of ink on paper this month. My imagination was ready to give birth to the end of chapter two of a long story I am writing. Not sure what separates a story from a book. My companion of the past twenty months expired in the middle of a sentence. His well went dry. I bowed my head and gave my blue pen his proper respects. His last words were “My twin sister is in your desk drawer upstairs, still in the package. She’ll take it from here.”
I leaned up and discovered a spider with more legs than I have toes building a new home. His foundation spanned fifteen feet and I wondered how he connected one end to the other. When I discovered him, he looked like he was suspended in mid-air, but his engineering techniques were lowering himself from one string to another. He was obsessed to connect his web into a circle of life. I watched in fascination for the longest time, got out the camera that couldn’t capture this miracle in action that my eyes could.
Went and got my old pal’s sister and finished birthing chapter two. My story is over 8,000 words so far. Chapter three incubates in my mind. Can I weave things as well the spider did? I checked on him today and he was swaying in his new home like a hammock in the gentle breeze. Creating art is much like the spider building his web. Make a foundation, find inspirational energy to continue non-stop and produce a finished product that makes you proud. I hope my story accomplishes half the beauty of that spider. Glenn Stenson, author. Yeah, I could get used to those three words together.