She Wolf

The hose nozzles are kept on a pine panel secured with strips of inner tube and hung for easy access from two hooks on the side of the shed. I removed it and propped it against the stone gable end and then I spied my velvet lady.

I felt slightly ashamed, as if I had voyeuristically walked in on her and caught her unawares. She was dozing, languorously stretched out, her limbs slightly curled and the downy hairs glowing in the morning light. At first she seemed unfazed by my presence, letting the warmth of the sun play upon her back, her head bejewelled in black and gold, her body swathed in a symmetrically patterned ethnic print in browns and tawny shades of earth.

She remained still, poised, unmoving until suddenly she darted for the floor tumbling in her haste and rolling into a tight ball before uncurling and retreating shyly into a crack in the wall where she became invisible, camouflaged by the veins of the sandstone and only her papillae visible, raised menacingly against further incursions on her dignity.

I saluted her, wished her happy hunting and went on my way. No doubt by tomorrow she will be back in the shed, returning to familiar territory in that secret way that spiders have.