I was on my own. I didn't know who I was or how to be, so I sang my way through the world. In those first weeks, I knew nothing of my new universe. I started by learning to survive. I became a scavenger, stripping the flesh from mice and the hooves of deer. I learned to distinguish our cousins from predators and then from each other. The firefly buzzed beneath the leaves of my tree, and I aimed, being careful to aim true.
It was at night that I learned to sing. I crawled through the dark woods, my eyes searching for prey and meat to feed my belly. By the time the sun rose, I had run out of everything, left with nothing but myself. There was only me, filled with overwhelming happiness I had never known before.
It wasn't long before I forgot all about the flock of birds that I had left behind. I had become an animal, and all my dreams had come true.
I heard the chirp of another bird far away, and I flew to see what it was. My eyesight was still fuzzy, and I didn't remember the mountain tops around me at all. The trees, the moss, the flowers—all I saw were strange brown shapes and colours. The woods were a jungle of leafy green that hid everything but the most fearsome animals, the ones that stood out from the rest.
I had fallen to the ground, feeling the pain of the tree roots snaking through my spine. It was hard to breathe, and my lungs burned. The air was so dark and cold, and it felt like I would never see my tree again. Then I remembered the chirp.
They came crawling from the treetops, their nestlings holding on tight to the spiderwebs they knew so well. There they were, at last!
I felt a sting on my leg. With my last bit of strength, I screeched and flapped my wings, trying to fly. But the silk of the web was like steel, and I couldn't flee. I felt the warmth of breath on my skin, but I was too afraid to open my eyes.
My body pulled along the roots, and I couldn't see the moon in the sky. My face pressed against the tree trunk, and I couldn't see the sky either. My last thought was that this must be hell.
The web tightened around me, a cocoon into which I slipped as they whispered and sang, and I begged for more. I wanted to sleep, but Mother Spider's song wouldn't let me. I was filled with that flicker of light in my belly, that humming, that high-sweet melody. I sang until I knew no other song. I felt everything with my body, my breath, and my soul.
"I love you," Mother Spider's voice was a tender whisper in the distance. "I love you so much."
With chelicerae clenching, a mother's love becomes an embrace.
It was at night that I learned to sing. I crawled through the dark woods, my eyes searching for prey and meat to feed my belly. By the time the sun rose, I had run out of everything, left with nothing but myself. There was only me, filled with overwhelming happiness I had never known before.
It wasn't long before I forgot all about the flock of birds that I had left behind. I had become an animal, and all my dreams had come true.
I heard the chirp of another bird far away, and I flew to see what it was. My eyesight was still fuzzy, and I didn't remember the mountain tops around me at all. The trees, the moss, the flowers—all I saw were strange brown shapes and colours. The woods were a jungle of leafy green that hid everything but the most fearsome animals, the ones that stood out from the rest.
I had fallen to the ground, feeling the pain of the tree roots snaking through my spine. It was hard to breathe, and my lungs burned. The air was so dark and cold, and it felt like I would never see my tree again. Then I remembered the chirp.
They came crawling from the treetops, their nestlings holding on tight to the spiderwebs they knew so well. There they were, at last!
I felt a sting on my leg. With my last bit of strength, I screeched and flapped my wings, trying to fly. But the silk of the web was like steel, and I couldn't flee. I felt the warmth of breath on my skin, but I was too afraid to open my eyes.
My body pulled along the roots, and I couldn't see the moon in the sky. My face pressed against the tree trunk, and I couldn't see the sky either. My last thought was that this must be hell.
The web tightened around me, a cocoon into which I slipped as they whispered and sang, and I begged for more. I wanted to sleep, but Mother Spider's song wouldn't let me. I was filled with that flicker of light in my belly, that humming, that high-sweet melody. I sang until I knew no other song. I felt everything with my body, my breath, and my soul.
"I love you," Mother Spider's voice was a tender whisper in the distance. "I love you so much."
With chelicerae clenching, a mother's love becomes an embrace.
