Spider

'What's that?' I trained my headlamp back over the patch of ground where I had just noticed something small but beautiful glittering in the brown grass. Nothing. I took one step to the left, where I had just been, and passed the light over again. 'There!' I stopped. Something tiny in the grass reflected my light back at me, but broken up unto the full spectrum of colours. No-one else in the campsite was paying any attention, but I was intrigued.

I moved the light back and forth over the shining speck, and the colour spectrum changed; blue morphed into green and then golden yellow, while the red morphed into purple then indigo. The whole rainbow shining out of a tiny spot; a minute shining jewel. But what was it?

I moved closer with my light, but all I could see was the speck of brilliance. I leant right down to it but still couldn't work out what it was. Not thinking about how unlikely it was, I concluded that it must be some kind of bead. I had seen tiny glass beads with that oily look that would reflect rainbow colours. I reached down to pick it up. It was only as I came so close I actually brushed it with my fingertip, that it scuttled a short distance away, and stopped. Startled, I finally made sense of what I was looking at: it was a spider, and the brilliant speck was one of its eyes.

Its body was bigger than I expected (I had been looking for something very tiny after all), and was stripy brown - your average garden variety, as my grandfather would have called it. Won't eat much. Still, as a mild arachnophobe, I recoiled involuntarily and my heart pumped hard for a moment. The spider, however, who had been almost poked in the eye by a giant finger, stood still. I shone the light on it again, and the eye sent back its beautiful refracted light. It stayed near, and seemed (perhaps I imagined it), to be quite good natured about the whole affair.

'It's a spider!' I called out to the campsite, and again no-one answered. Then someone piped up with 'Step on it - that will sort it out!' and laughed a little. I've never been a fan of spiders, but looking down at my small sparkly friend the idea seemed shocking, the words a travesty. 'Why would I step on a beautiful little creature like you?' I asked it silently. It didn't answer but remained in its spot. I looked again at its brown body - so plain and unremarkable. The kind of harmless spider you have brushed away countless times in your life without even thinking. It was so camouflaged in the brown grass that in fact I could easily have stepped on and squashed it accidentally and never known, if not for its sparkling eye.

I left the spider alone and went back to my seat and my fellow campers. A conversation ensued and I forgot about the brown spider, until later when we turned off the lights to get ready for bed. I shone the torch around making sure I had not left anything important outside, and then I saw it again; the spider, still in its spot, no doubt waiting for a tasty insect to walk its way. 'Good night, spider,' I said to it silently, and went to bed.

As I went, I reflected on the fact that I had touched a spider, and instead of being terrified or repulsed I had been strangely charmed.

Copyright Sophie Ransom 2021