Spiders - my Super-Villain Origin Story

We have been sick for ever and ever. And long-covid has not been fun. But I think... I think I may, just may be getting my brain back. And I am quite excited. 

I have missed it. A lot. 

It appears though, that having lost my brain for awhile, on it's return it is coming back without many filters and with a full complement of obsessions and, well - in full-on-obsessive crank mode. 

Possibly I have metamorphised into a witch? 

I have always had many obsessions. But I believe (although I could be wrong) that I wasn't particularly interested in other people sharing them. I was perfectly content for them just to be my obsessions. 

But it is presently making me quite upset how under-appreciated spiders are. 

The artistry of their webs! All their different types of webs! The way they protect plants from predators. The way they protect us from mosquitos! The fascinating qualities of their silk! 

And I have come to realise that if I were in a Marvel movie I would be a villain. 

A super villain they'd all have to fight against to stop the destruction of the world as they know it. 

And I now know that my origin story would be along the lines of: old woman mad at the world that spiders are so unappreciated for all they do and how amazing they are, so takes over all forms of media,  and streams footage of spiders being wondrously clever instead. 

Especially all the sports channels and shows. They would exclusively show spiders and their webs and the glory of said webs - especially all dew covered in the morning and illuminated with early morning sun. 

And I would demand people had conversations about spiders, and their favourite spiders, rather than about sports teams. And everyone would know the different types of spiders and their various different awesomenesses...  And there would be no more of those annoying people putting their selfies all over the place. Instead everyone would post photos of spiders. (Or bugs. Or beatles. Or dragonflys. Dragonflys are SO AMAZING!) 

As you can see, I am having a lot of problems letting the worlds lack of appreciation for spiders go. 

I don't think I worried about such things in the past? (Honestly, it is hard to properly remember the pre-covid past. There was stuff. And my brain worked. And I could do ... more stuff. And the wording worded. And I don't think I identified quite as strongly with mini-beasts.) 

But I am waking my husband in the night, just to remind him again, about peoples lack of appreciation for spiders' awesomness. He takes it quite well. 

And it's not that I mind super-crank-villain-mode. 

I just don't want it to get me locked up. There is a very strong suspicion of witches in my family. (And by this I mean through deep-dive ancestry tracing, not looking at actual relatives alive today.) 

And I'm afraid my deep devotion to spiders and bats, moths and dragonflys, fungi, ferns and lichen might possibly do it. (Let me not forget caterpillars and damselfly nymphs.And Weeds. True survivors. Iconic, heroic, truly inspirational in their resilience, adaptability - I could, and will, go on. But later.) 

Swans

 

River

Winter in Queensland is odd. 

Eight years on I still get perplexed every year when winter comes and the rain stops. 

This year, when we've had days of 28c in July (which is so wrong and unfair I can't even - isn't seven months of blinding heat enough? This is supposed to beWINTER) the lack of rain means the garden is parched and the streams are low or the beds are dry. 

But the trickle of water through the smoothed river rocks can even calm (momentarily) the ire of a Melbournian cruelly denied a proper winter. 

The water, undisturbed by rain, is clear and the play of light and water on the rocks soothes and rejuvenates. 

Outside & Green

 

We have been sick forever and ever and ever. 

One of my daughters showed me a big gob of green snot this morning and was snuffling more snot; my youngest have been taking turns wheezing all night and my son tells me chicken tastes like egg and salami tastes like strawberry, so I'm thinking this last cold was/is probably covid. (Also, someone at my husband's work has covid, although he's also been coughed on by flu vectors as well - so hey, take a number, any number - they all lead to Sick.) 

The kids are over it and I am over it and while I've ruled out the playground as it seems antisocial to get snot all over the playground so other families can experience the joys, we can't stay inside all the time.

So we went to the bush. And the green (of the non-snot variety) did everything it was supposed to. 

Soothing, rejuvenating, reminding me the sickness can't last forever. (I mean, I know it can, but the green makes me believe it will come to an end.)

Moss. Filtered sunlight. Moving water burbling

The kids ran and played and fractiously whined and the world was good. 

Rain Morning

 

Staying by shore, the rain woke me in the early morning, and once it stopped I took the dogs through the winding path to the shore. The trees here astound me - so deeply green, and yet they grow in sand. 

Storm Shore & Ocean Hounds

 

We had a beautiful few days escape at the beach this last weekend, with much anticipated relatives briefly visiting from the UK. It was wonderful seeing my cousin, who I haven't seen since she was in her teens and I was just beginning my 30s. She's now the most gorgeous young twenties traveling with her equally delightful partner and it was so lovely catching up. 

And it was wonderful staying by the sea in my most favourite pocket of Queensland ocean. 

My dogs - the best behaved of my children - also loved it. We've been beset with one illness after another for what seems like forever, so this is the first time they've had a run in far too long. They really deserve far better owners!

By The Wind Sailors

Cast up by the sea, caught in the light of the setting sun. 

 

Here (Self Portrait)

I arise before first light to take photos of the sunrise over K'gari and the Sandy Straits. 

Before the sun appears, the ground is sharply cold underfoot. There is little sand, but rocks, oyster shells, gravel. Within the water sludge-silt lines the bottom. The clarity of the water is disrupted by my careful footprints and brown rises in clouds. 

I am a newcomer to the area, still feel a newcomer to the state. Despite having birthed two kids here, married a Queenslander, lived here for getting on to ten years I still refer to 'you Queenslanders' and blink in astonishment at various things. 

But here. On the shore. Here, wading in sea, tottering over rocks with my non-balance, questing for falls of light. I belong. 

Happiness is the sea. 

 

Morning Light on the Great Sandy Strait

 

First light by the sea on the quiet, tucked away and protected coast the looks across to K'gari.

No one else is awake and all the world is magic. 

Float

 

Afloat. 

At perfect rest. 

Held between sea and sky. 

Night and Day. 

Afloat. 

In the moments before the sun rises the water between us and K'gari is silken - it looks as if we could walk across it to K'gari. Everything seems at once expectant and tranquil. My husband and I have stolen some hours away for just and I don't want to forget a single moment. 

New Beginnings

 

Rain

 

From the shallows

 

Wading in the shallows, as the last light fades, I look back to shore. 

After the Flood