Walking my daughter to the bus stop, she suddenly exclaimed: "Mum! Look at that spider's web!" It was a foggy morning and the heavy dew revealed web after glittering web, each strung with sparkling pearls of water. There were webs in bushes, between bins, from walls to flowers, some horizontal like thickly-meshed trampolines. It was breath-taking.
I made a mental note to spend more time examining them on the short walk back home, but before I knew it, I was half way there, all thoughts of spider webs completely gone. How did that happen? Thinking took over - planning the day even as I was missing this very bit of it. Auto-pilot is so quick to assert its power as I discover countless times each day. I arrived home eager to recreate the experience but as I scoured the garden there was no trace of glittering webs. In less than 10 minutes the fog had cleared and the dew had evaporated. If I wanted to see spiders' webs I would have to look even more carefully now. Nothing had changed - but everything had changed. I learnt again that the beauty is still there, all around us, ever changing yet constant, if only we have the eyes to see.