This really happened a few years ago, as I was heading on a long drive on a winding country road. Something caught my eye as I drove down the steep hill.
A very large, very hairy, and very, very leggy huntsman spider was leering at me from the other side of the windscreen. Ugh! I know they’re God’s creatures and have a valuable place in nature, but I don’t really like spiders. Not near me, at any rate.
He’d fall off or scuttle away at a sharp corner, or on the next bump. That’s what I thought he would do.
He didn’t
With each tight turn, to the right or to the left, the spider stood firm, sticky feet planted on the centre of the bonnet, long hairy legs flexing and bending in response to the car moving beneath him. With the skill and elegance of an accomplished surfer, he ‘rode the wave’, unshaken by the forces of wind and gravity – and completely heedless of the discomfort of the driver of this large metal machine.
He was risking serious damage. He appeared to know that. And I was fascinated.
Completely fearless
It’s never wise to overdo anthropomorphism, but it looked as though he was actually enjoying himself. Any sensible arachnid would have scurried back to safety, under the headlights or behind the wing mirror. (On my car, that is where they seem to live.) But not this creature. He looked completely fearless, at one with the wave and the energy, startlingly confident.
As he stared fixedly at me with his many eyes, I had the oddest feeling. He was unafraid of the driver behind the wheel. It was as if he knew I would not harm him. He trusted me. But he was taking a BIG risk.
Common sense prevailed
I stopped the car. This was distracting and such distraction is not wise, especially on a long trip.
I walked (cautiously) to the front of the car, folded paper gripped in my hand. Firmly, but gently, I slid the paper underneath the spider and flicked him onto the leaf litter beneath a gum tree.
He landed deftly, and turned to face me. Then, standing tall, he waved his front legs in a kind of spiderly greeting, before loping nimbly across the leaves and disappearing beneath a piece of bark.
Wait a minute. Did I hear something? ‘Hey girl, thanks for the ride. That was awesome!’
Life is a risk, sometimes a calculated one. It can be a bumpy ride and in our calculations we need to remember that we can trust the ‘driver behind the wheel’.
But do we always remember to say ‘Thank You’?
Trust, risk, live – and always be thankful.
Sheelagh Wegman is a freelance writer and editor. She enjoys reading, writing, conversation and music and lives in the foothills of kunanyi/Mt Wellington.
Sheelagh Wegman’s previous articles may be viewed at http://www.pressserviceinternational.org/sheelagh-wegman.html