I gained a new-found respect for spiders today.
It all started as I found a little yellow-green spider walking along the edge of the bath towel hanging near the shower. My first thought was to kill it. Then I suddenly thought of how strange and surreal it must be for a spider – accustomed to the great outdoors, trees, leaves, dirt, bugs, birds – to suddenly encounter a bath towel. I watched its long, spindly legs trying desperately to grab hold of something as it walked along the fluff. It must have thought it was walking on a sheep.
Imagine walking through a wilderness, a vast wasteland of white, where the entire ground is made of stacks and stacks of marshmallows. Would you fare well? I dare say, this spider is much more adaptable than I am. It would take me a lot longer to figure out how to walk on such a strange surface. The little guy was actually picking it up rather well.
My respect must not have been increased that much, though, because I killed it. I’m not really sure what this says about me as a person. Perhaps I don’t appreciate perseverance as much as I claim to. Perhaps I just assume I’m a higher life form than all things small and creepy, and that my life has more value. Maybe I just couldn’t stand the thought of wrapping a small, yellow-green spider around my naked body after I got out of the shower.
On second thought, it was definitely that. I never want to wrap a small, yellow-green spider around my naked body in any context. Bon voyage, little guy. ♦