It’s the time of year when a smaller world springs to life, when tiny beings that live upon the land and upon the currents awaken, stir themselves, and join the larger community.
We put in half the garden yesterday. While I was planting corn, a honeybee darted and buzzed around the dandelion blossoms carpeting the grass where I knelt. Turning up the soil turned up worms, busy at work breaking it down, and later in the day, Wings had to free a wasp that had become trapped indoors.
We give these small creatures their space, welcoming them into our lives. Each has its own role to fill its own task to perform within this microcosmic ecosystem that we are privileged to call “home,” and we are grateful for their contributions.
Some, like the bees, encouraging the growth and spread of new life by pollinating. For others, like the earthworms, it’s cultivation: breaking down the soil, making it useable by the plants whose seeds are sown by us and Nature alike.Still others perform predatory functions that keep the ecosystem in balance. among those are the ants, a colony of whom built an entire pueblo of red earth on the northwest field a few years ago. It was a multi-story structure constructed entirely of red earth, sharply rectangular rooflines at varying levels, entry holes scattered across them like fireplace vents. It was a beautiful structure, an entire pueblo village in microcosm, but one whose walls eroded with the first monsoonal rain.
Then there are the spiders.
Most are small; some are spinners of silvery webs in the spaces between the wires of fences and the stalks of plants. Others are busy activists who range far and wide over the course of a day, scurrying here and there, doing their jobs largely unnoticed.
And once in a while, a Black Widow will visit.
She’s small, unassuming yet imposing, a perfect manifestation of the power of the female spirit.
Seemingly one color, the pure black of fine jet, she blends easily with stones and soil, allowing her to work mostly unnoticed and unbothered.
But once in a while, she shows her underside, as here, sliding down a concavity in the rock: brilliant red, crimson, scarlet, a riot of color in the shape of conjoined triangles, an ancient pattern she lent to some of our peoples for use in their rugs and regalia.
Of course, the design of her own traditional dress is far from the only gift she has given us.
We’ve looked at this spirit before, known to some peoples are Grandmother Spider, to others simply as Spider Woman, and to still others as a male trickster. In Trickster form, spider is often a clown, but not especially benevolent, and at times, even dangerous. He always has lessons to teach, and woe to those who fail to heed them.
In her female incarnation, however, Spider’s lessons tend to be less harsh, on balance, although no less necessary and no less lacking in consequence for the heedless. To some, she embodies patience, as both virtue and tactic; to others, she is wholly a part of The People’s origin story. To still others, she is a bestower of blessings, of teaching, of gifts: of weaving; of the dreamcatcher, of good health and protected nights.
To still others, she is a guardian of other thresholds, of the road to the Spirit World.
In other, non-Native cultures, she brings different messages: sometimes of wisdom, sometimes of caution, sometimes of imminent prosperity.
To us, she’s a member of this land’s extended family, and she is always welcome here.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
