Looking out through French doors leading from chez Strachan’s dining room to the rear garden, low autumnal solar rays highlight unsightly grime upon the glasswork. Muck consequential of recent West Yorkshire precipitation…… Looks like we’ll witness the windolene, a cloth and chamois leather later today.
Thankfully, though, the rain residue isn’t bad enough to deprive me of witnessing mother natures bounty. Chromatic bequeathals in the shape of resplendent dark pink sedum bushes, piercing orange pyracantha berries and scarlet begonia flowers.
The latter a bedding plant approaching it’s end of life, but nevertheless still contributing to the enchantment of the colour mix afforded to those serendipitous enough to witness the brew.
The south shifting sun also enhancing the visibility of a couple of ordinarily stealthy spiders webs. Light piercing the web allowing the naked eye greater insight into the intricate design and accomplished workmanship which arachnids invest when setting traps for their hapless pray.
Spider’s webs are truly an astonishing piece of engineering. Wonderful symmetry, which must calm the most OCD of minds, combined with a strength which can survive 70 mph winds.
I’m relieved we humans don’t have to go to such extents to procure our food and drink. I’d hate to think my weekly comestible shop was reliant on ensnaring an ASDA delivery truck in the netting I’d earlier created to fulfil the task.
Like a latter-day Robert the Bruce, I’m fascinated by the spider’s behaviour. Sitting in the bullseye of the web it seemingly taunts his/her prey, who’re unable to gain liberty from the anthropod’s sticky trap.
These minuscule insects barely visible to the naked eye, their existential race almost run, who at some point in the near future will feature as this arachnids lunch….. The circle of life being played out right in front of my eyes.
Unsure of the spider’s sex, you’ll notice I earlier took the safe option of penning his/her when referred to the arachnid. Yours truly always attempt to be as accurate as possible when imparting descriptives. However, that meticulous approach doesn’t stretch as far as me examining spiders genitals.
I commence this paragraph after my return from chauffeuring my mother to a drive-thru flu jab clinic. The old lady receiving the injection through the front passenger door window of her eldest offspring’s car; while parked up in a church car park.
As a consequence of suffering a heart attack last year, GJ Strachan could’ve also received the influenza vaccine if so desired; but politely declined. I’m unsure of my rationale behind such a jeopardous decision; hopefully, though, it won’t prove foolhardy.
It was around 24 hours ago when I commenced this blog; a piece of work which ordinarily takes me 2-3 hours. This delay consequential of an amalgam of reasons, including assisting my good friend Sam clearing her mum’s bungalow and with final arrangements for her forebears funeral tomorrow.
It’s a terrible time for the lass, who doted on her mother. The jinx resultant from being friends with Gary Strachan seemingly striking once again. So many of my family/friends have passed since 2017, I’m beginning to wander if I should come with a health warning!