spider carnival

Sometimes I don't get out for my walk until mid-day or evening.  Thank goodness I woke up early this morning, put on the kettle (so I'd have hot water for tea when I got back inside), laced up my boots, and got out while the fog was still low.  There were spiderwebs EVERYWHERE, as if the spiders had had an extraordinary, predawn festival.  There were thousands of them, high and low, some of them were shaped like a kind of double hammock, with one slightly concave net suspended just about a centimeter above a second same-sized net.  Others were bell-shaped like cloche hats.  I've never seen so many spider webs on a single morning in my entire life. I don't know when they built all these webs.  Was it yesterday?  Was it this morning? I like to imagine that a million spiders were waiting, in party-like anticipation, in hopes of a hearty spring breakfast while the sun was creeping around the horizon and dew fell in their webs while people and birds and bugs were just beginning to stir.