Spider Web
Poetry is a fresh morning spider-web telling a story of moonlit hours of weaving and waiting during a night.
Carl Sandburg
On a foggy morning, the silk strands of a web glisten with dewy diamonds.
A spider hangs in the window, waiting.
After hunting insects all summer, I am beginning to feel a little spider-like.
Patience is key.
Bees will eventually bumble in.
Ladybugs will climb.
A spice bush swallowtail may stay surprisingly still.
The grasshopper will leap into sight.
Tiger swallowtail could get preoccupied with a blazing star,
And a singing Cicada fall from the tree.
The Monarch will make a Royal Appearance,
And unwary flies land before me.
Will you walk into my parlour? Said the spider to a fly: '"Tis the prettiest little parlour That ever you did spy.
Mary Howitt
The Collector
Spider-like I spin
my web patiently, sensing
when you wander in.
I have had a great time looking for bugs everywhere this summer. The spider binding book I mentioned in my last post (click here if you didn’t see that one) is almost completely full of photos.
Spider binding from the top - its shape is the reason for its name.
I realized I could add twice the photos I thought I could to this book because of the wide open format, so I printed the extra photos today. Now I just need to mount them and add the cover photo and I’ll be done.
Another follow up - I am offering a three hour bookbinding workshop on September 28, 2024 at 9:30 am at my barn/studio in Glenn, Michigan.
We will be making a hand-stitched slotted wrapper binding, and, if we have time, I’ll also show you a how to make a couple of fun single sheet folded books. All tools and materials will be provided. The cost is $75 per person. Class size is limited to 10 people, so please let me know as soon as possible if you’re interested by replying to this message (if you received this post via e-mail) or sending me an email at rhodatude@gmail.com.
Thank you so much for being here. See you next month!
What a beautiful summer this has been. Here’s a brief moment with the sun, before my little part of earth turned away into night.
The Insect Plain
Let us dig our furrow in the fields of the commonplace.
Jean-Henri Fabre
Eastern Tiger Swallowtail hanging from Milkweed
Signal flies courting on a slender leaf
Yellow-striped army worm crawling into the center of a fading coneflower
Despite its hardworking (and destructive) reputation, the carpenter ant takes a moment to walk on the soft petals of Queen Anne’s Lace
Even the biting stable fly can be still in the presence of a pretty flower
A Banded Longhorn Beetle climbs over the Wild Yarrow - is he as surprised as I am to see the little flecks of violet there
a tiny grasshopper hugs a blade of grass with his sticky feet
A dragonfly lands on the sharp dry leaves of grass
Bugs are not going to inherit the earth. They own it now. So we might as well make peace with the landlord.
Thomas Eisner
Abundance
Things are hopping in the field-
hopping and flying
and crawling around
worming through
buzzing about
chewing and biting
slithering
darting back and forth
eating
gathering pollen
mating
laying eggs
waiting…
so many
little
beautiful
intricate
terrifying things…
flourishing
in one little field.
If you follow me on Instagram (@random_rho), you may have noticed me turning my eye to the very small recently: drops of water, blades of grass, bees, flowers and insects. This was partly because I broke a telephoto lens and am still figuring out how to replace or repair it and partly because I’ve been trying to grow some vegetables this year and have realized how much insects can either help or hinder my efforts. So I picked up my macro lens, which can pick up very small details, and started working on my skill with closer, smaller subjects. There’s a lot to learn.
Coincidentally, in the bookbinding group I belong to, The Handmade Book Club, we were creating a Spider Binding, which is a sewn and taped binding with an unusual folding pattern for the pages that makes the finished book look a little spider-like… so I thought it seemed appropriate to fill mine with pictures of insects. Little did I know how easy it would be to find subjects. I mean, I know there are a lot of insects out there, but when you start really looking on purpose, it’s shocking how many you can see in just a few minutes. They’re everywhere. They don’t stick around posing for the camera, of course. Big grasshoppers and most moths and butterflies flit around so much that it’s stressful to chase after them. But I found that if I stayed in one place in the field long enough, they would come to me. Sometimes this meant they would land on me. Some of them bite, so I had to be careful. I don’t love all of these creatures. Some are scary and some eat plants and trees that I would prefer they didn’t, but I am still so amazed by the variety and abundance existing in such a small area. It will be an ongoing project this summer. At the end, I’ll share pictures of the books I’ve made (There will have to be more than one!).
Also, I am still developing a bookbinding workshop for late September. I’ll send a special announcement when I have the date and time arranged.
Thank you so much for being here! I will see you next month!
P.S. The blog title is loosely taken from a quote by Henry David Thoreau:
"Nature will bear the closest inspection. She invites us to lay our eye level with her smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain." ~ Henry David Thoreau
An Andrena Bee bathing itself in pollen on a wild chicory flower
Magic of June
In early June the world of leaf and blade and flowers explodes, and every sunset is different.
John Steinbeck
Heart of a Rose
nestled within her silky white petals
baby sunbeams reach
with tiny arms and fragile hearts
to their mother
June 5 fallen leaves caught by the petal of a Japanese dogwood blossom
June 7 Eastern Gray Squirrel chewing on a green pine cone
June 8 - A cluster of flowers on the mock orange tree, backlit by the rising sun in the front yard
June 8 - Robin building her nest in an old lilac bush by the driveway
June 10 - Cabbage White Butterfly settles on the wild herbs by the roadside
June 11 Tiny Pine Squirrel ate seeds fallen from the river birch outside the front door
June 12 - a bee sat, unmoving, near the eye of a wooden step
Spring being a tough act to follow, God created June.
Al Bernstein
It’s been a quiet week of gardening, resting and getting ready for summer here. Seeing flowers bloom. Watching the little wild things emerge and come looking for food. Walking down to the lake in the early morning. Wandering around the neighborhood. Summer will be here soon with all its busy activity and social commitments, and that will be good too, but for now I’m really soaking up the quiet.
Thank you for letting me share a few of my favorite moments of this week. Hope your week was beautiful too.
June 12 - A rainbow fragment unexpectedly appeared across the lake as I was walking back up the bluff stairs