Feeling seen

12 weeks out from a marathon, we would meet at 7 p.m. every Tuesday night at the trailhead for 9-11 miles of interval speed work. This trail stretched a good 10 miles uninterrupted by road crossings and enclosed by trees and a meadow–one of the nicest places to run in the city.

In August, we could finish by the edge of dusk, but as the days grew shorter, more and more of our run was in the dark. Equipped now with headlamps, switched on about halfway through, we noticed that the borders of the trail glittered, reflecting our light like dew on grass. Except it was September in Texas and the grass had been baking in the sun all day.

It was only when the tiny stars appeared in the middle of the trail, surrounded by 8 lean legs, that we realized that the twinkling constellations in the grass were hundreds of spiders. Suddenly, we were not so alone. In fact, it was crowded.

I see them all the time now, the stars in the grass–legions of spiders ready to start their day.