I keep seeing their elaborate traps everywhere. They’re bold. They set out to enmesh an entire region and trap as many victims as possible. They’re ruthless and cunning. Their traps are transparent by day and invisible by night. When the morning dew graces them, they sparkle like millions of tiny gems. They’re enticing and deadly. They’re wispy and ethereal. They’re attractive and beguiling. They’re ensnaring and murderous.
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| There is no mercy. |
Very few escape their clutches. The majority struggle at first but weaken
quickly. They wait in silent fear, not
knowing what has happened but knowing only that they are trapped. They’re in a world of gossamer tunnels filled
with deadly ends. Everything they touch
is sticky and ensnares them further.
They give up the struggle easily, some would say hypnotically, as they
gaze through clouded eyes at their sparkly prison.
The attack comes quickly.
There is another brief struggle when the victim realizes that the shiny
silk clouds will not yield the sustenance they had hoped for. Then the victim tries to find the light, but
it’s too late. The sticky mesh has
enveloped them completely, and they can only stare out through haunted eyes. Who knows what terrible ghosts they see? Who knows what horrors dance across their
minds? Who knows what terror grips their
souls? The venomous bite comes lightning
fast, and then all struggle ceases. Then
the long wait toward the slow and torturous ebbing of life begins.
But enough about the mainstream media.
August in Maine
is known as “spider month,” and by the time September rolls around, it’s all
you can do to avoid them. Fortunately,
we do not have any poisonous spiders in Maine. I cannot say the same for the news.
