I remember waiting for the bus with my girls in the early morning when they were very young. Standing wrapped in an old housecoat, down by the road, crazy curly hair every which way, thankful few people passed our old country home at that hour.
I’d run a few feet up the gravel hill of the driveway as we heard it approach, and stand straight-- behind the big maple in the yard—its wide trunk hiding me. Inching my way slowly around its wide base as the bus drove off down the road. Only peeking out as it rounded the bend toward school.
I found a spider at the edge of the pond—so thin she can hide behind a blade of grass. With four legs forward and four behind, she hugs the stem as closely as she can, her slender brown form matching it perfectly. And slips carefully around it as I peek at her.
My, what large jaws you have!