Jun 3
The Windowsill
a battle I needed to see
I’m sitting on the closed toilet, mindlessly watching my 2 year old splash in the tub, when something catches my eye. I glance to my left, and in the window frame see a small black thing writhing in a tiny cobweb. The maker of the web is a few inches away. The small black thing is jerking the thread this way and that, bending it’s body in half and wriggling nonstop.
I hate spiders, but I’m not watching rubber duckies anymore. I’m transfixed by this scene in my windowsill.
The spider comes closer, but the ant bends itself in half, then stretches out to smack it away. The spider retreats. The ant continues to wriggle while the spider eerily watches.
It must get tired soon, I think. How long can this thing fight with its hands literally tied? The spider comes again, two, three more times! And yet each time it is pushed away.
Time passes with bubbles ahead of me and a fight for life at my side.
Man, this ant really doesn’t give up!
And man, that spider is so patient.
Soon, it’s time to towel off, get into jammies, and brush teeth. With one last visit to the potty before bed, I glance at the sill. The ant is walking calmly across the window screen, away from the spider and its web of doom. The spider seems unperturbed, knowing something else will come its way eventually.
This tiny scene unfolded days ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
I am the ant, and all of my problems are that spider, sitting there, watching, looming, waiting patiently for me to give up. I’m struggling, stretching, looking for a way out. Sometimes, fighting feels useless, that the end is inevitable. But maybe I can fight a little longer. And maybe, like the ant, I’ll be able to walk away.
