I’ve watched her for days, captivated as she weaves her web on the other side of the kitchen window. She disappeared for a while — no doubt hiding in a crack or some other nether region — then returned to lie in wait.

How does she catch anything? The screen must filter out all but the smallest gnats. Maybe gnats are delicacies for her, like a plate of those little won-ton appetizers would be for me, what appeals after nights of dutiful veggies and proteins.

Maybe this spider is running a candy store, eating all her wares. If she is a grass spider, as I think she might be, her days are numbered. She will mate (if I raise the screen and she escapes), lay eggs and perish.

The web she’s woven seems vaguely funnel-like, which is the kind grass spiders weave. It reminds me of stratus clouds in the summer, swirled into fanciful shapes that make a human mind marvel at all the wonders nature holds.