|Image via queen of constance|
"And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest."
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
Lounging in the protective shade of a tree on a warm, breezy spring afternoon is bliss inevitably. The air is calm with an occasional wisp of wind softly blowing my hair; the earth around me at peace. Nature teems with life, bees busy making a living. I love the out-of-doors. All of it except... bugs. Namely, spiders. Eight legged things have a strange and ghastly effect on me. Most of the time I can't even kill them, I
wildly scream call for help.
I may be able to "kill my own snakes" given the opportunity, but I sure as anything can't kill my own spiders. I've drowned them in hairspray, shampoo, dish soap... anything that saves me from making direct contact. If there is no one else to save me the trouble and I must do the task... well, it's been a long time, but truthfully... I bawl. Honestly. It just happens. I'll squash the little monster with a shoe (I used a fly swatter once) and dance, shriek and cry the entire time. Don't even ask me to clean up the mess once I've killed it either! That's even worse!
My great-aunt once told me a story about her sister when they were growing up. She had several sisters, no brothers, and dad was always the hero. When a spider happened upon them one day, they reacted the same as I still do. They ran and jumped and climbed on chairs to escape. One sister was brave enough to get a broom and go after it. She cried and cried as she beat the spider. Their dad found them, and saw the other sisters giggling at how the sister who killed the spider cried, and tactfully pointed out that she... the one who was crying so, had killed the spider; they hadn't. She became a hero in their eyes.
It takes fear to be courageous.
But spiders? That's asking a bit much. Thandi, over at Imperfect Mom of Two-locked in South Africa had a recent post called "I kissed a frog". And she really did! Not only that, she blindly stuck her hand into a burlap sack, not knowing what could be in it... and came in contact with a snake! And she held it around her neck, scared as she was! Way to go, girl (not that I'm going to have a pet tarantula anytime soon).
The out-of-doors is a gift to us... pure and beautiful. I enjoy being at one with nature. But if any ol' spider drops down beside this little miss muffet, so much for oneness! Into the air go the curds and whey! I'm gone!