Later, sitting at the computer, I see movement from the corner of my eye. At first I think it is the crane fly, but I discover that a spider is building a web between the angled arms of my desk lamp. I lean forward to get a better look, and the spider drops. I pull back and the spider rises. I brush my hand between my shoulder and the lamp, and the spider jerks. It has attached one end of its web to my shirt sleeve. I know that I tend to dope off now and then, but when spiders begin mistaking me for an inanimate object, I think perhaps my springtime tendency toward woolgathering has gone too far. Woolgathering is one thing, but spider-silk gathering quite another.
The nights are too short now. It seems barely to have turned dark before the early birds begin their all too cheerful cacophony. The noisy robins have even wakened the acorn woodpeckers, who normally don't rise until the light is much brighter. The woodpeckers sound cranky, too. I don't think the like being roused this early. I don't blame them. I'm not much of a morning person, myself, especially when I've been up all night. Chill, you over-eager avians! What's the rush?