Just the two (or three, or four) of us

Why is this woman following me with a camera?

When your mail is here, lady, I'll let you know. Until then...

Have you ever thought about how closely we live with insects? Sometimes I can handle this thought - like today - and other times, when I see 2 gazillion ants marching purposefully towards the house at the height of summer, it kind of gives me the wiggins.

Today, though, when there's just one of something (that I can see, at any rate), it's kind of nice. Like we're all trotting along on this journey called life together. Some of us big, some of us small. Me and the little spider that lives near the soap dish in the bathroom. Me and the fairly sizable Huntsman spider in our mailbox. It heartens me that (as I like to think) they regard our house and its environs as a safe haven where they can set up camp with some confidence. My rule of thumb with insects is that if they don't invade my space (such as a dangling by their web over my bed when I'm in it), I won't invade theirs. Yes, I know there are some fairly significant holes in that argument.

But for me, today, enjoying the Autumn sunshine while I watch bees struggling to fly their legs so laden with pollen, magpies stalking happily around the front yard in search of a worm and spiders waiting for the mail delivery, that line of (il)logic works just fine for me.