Thursday, September 22, 2011

A jellyfish in the bushes.


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.

2 comments:

pata said...

You certainly have a gift for words; I could see it all, the web gleaming in the sun and you jumping around on the beach!

lyn said...

Yes, I see it...thank you for taking me there. We need to slow down and take in God's amazing creations. The things we overlook are unsurmountable. They all have purposes in this life as we ourselves. Thank you God for your nature.