The misty morning hours often hold gifts for the coming day. This morning, however, held a little something extra special. Floating between two Leland Cypress, barely noticeable if not for the dew outlines, was a translucent jellyfish spiderweb. It quivered with the little breeze, flowing, then deflating, then puffing up again.
How amazing that God would make not one, but two beautiful, delicate, creations--each mimicking the other. See-through. Fragile. Floating, one on air, one in water, and hardly noticed except if you walk into it.
Walking into either, though, results a much different outlook at the delicate creature/creation. A spiderweb will cause immediate swatting and slapping, chills and heebeegeebies. Stepping on or swimming into a jellyfish will cause struggling, high-stepping, yelling, and scraping of credit cards along the now stinging area. Both may cause a need for medication, depending on the injuries directly resulted from stings or perceived spiders running loose in your shirt collar.
Yes. A gift. One to be admired from the safety of my porch as I sip my coffee and watch the sunrise glint off the outer edges of the nearly hidden web.