A sunny morning has given way to a gray afternoon, clouds low but light, and unlikely to deliver much, if anything, in the way of precipitation. It seems like a vast change from yesterday’s brilliant blue, but it’s not really; the temperature remains much the same, and so do the intermittent outbursts by a trickster wind.
Speaking of tricksters, they are abroad now that earth and air are warming. So are the more benign spirits, of course: Just this morning, the very young nuthatch returned momentarily to the feeder, a pair of grackles are here serenading our small world, and the red-tails are mating once more. But Coyote and his clan are singing at night, too, and others of their more capricious bent are emerging now.
In some traditions, that means Spider, and in some of those, he possesses a distinctly male aspect. In others, Spider is feminine, sometimes a Grandmother spirit; in still others, gender is not at issue, but rather, what the being brings to the world. And in some of those traditions, what is brought is thought to be prosperity, whether of a literal or a metaphorical sort.
In this household, we tend to give Grandmother Spider plenty of space. I saw the first one of the season a couple of days ago, and it made itself thoroughly unobtrusive. We honor them for their traditional roles, but also because they perform one very important task that, particularly so for us, can be seen as aiding in a life of prosperity and abundance: They help keep the mosquito population under control. As long-time readers and friends know, that has necessarily become very important to us, given the local and regional presence of West Nile virus.
But this small, seemingly modest spirit figures prominently in Indigenous traditions the world over, whether as grandmother or gatekeeper, as guardian or guide, as trickster or healer of sorts. And some years back, Wings decided to create a couple of works explicitly in her honor.
The first one was wrought in shades of crimson and mulberry, a fire spirit of sorts. Her name was, in fact, Grandmother Spider, and she was a powerful and imposing personality, for lack of a better word. She found her home fairly rapidly.
Sometime thereafter, he decided to create a second version, this one channeling the shades and spirits of the waters: the Skystone, rain from the blue desert expanse; and the violet blues of storm and lake. This one is Spider Woman herself, still seeking her home, and she is today’s featured work. From her description in the relevant section of the Bracelets Gallery here on the site:
Spider Woman Cuff Bracelet
Our dreams are the threshold between our contemporary existence and ways much older than memory. In many traditions, Spider Woman is the gatekeeper of such thresholds, and today, we still use the gift of her web to protect our dreams. Here, her ancient power is embodied in this spectacular cuff, hand-wrought from sterling silver and adorned with stones of protection and power. Her eight legs, texturized by hand-stamping extend from the dazzling oval lapis cabochon that forms her body. Hand-cut, hand-stamped pincers and silver spacer beads accent the protective Skystone of Sleeping Beauty turquoise that forms her head. Another view shown below.
Sterling silver, lapis lazuli, and Sleeping Beauty turquoise
$1,200 + shipping, handling, and insurance
I tend to understand her role and her gifts in connection with dreams, which in turn makes her — in my subconscious mind, at least — a spirit of the night, of the higher lanes and deeper space, of the visions and dreams that inhabit the star worlds. And, of course, she is capable of anchoring and spinning her webs up high, far above the earth on which she normally walks.
This is a season of trickster spirits, of course, but it is also one of the sky spirits: of birds and butterflies, of bees and dragonflies, and yes of Spider and her kind, too — and of the visions and dreams of stars and storm and deep blue sky.
There is much abundance yet to be had, to be foretold in those visions, to be dreamed in those dreams, to be lived under those skies by all our generations of children yet unborn.
~ Aji
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