The big brown spider has three strings of his web strung. He rest 'pon the eve
waiting in the cold crisp autumn air. He is draw up in a tight ball anticipating the sun
to rise above the horizon. A gentle airy breeze zips by cooling the spider to the core
as acorns bounce from tree to roof to ground. Trapped by circumstances of nature
he can not rebuild his web today. Will he go without food with no trap to
catch insects?Web completely gone after heavy wind of the night and early morn.
The wind comesfrom the east with a chill like artic's breath. The brown spider is
drawn up in a ball attached to the ceiling beam of the porch. Will he be able to rebuild?..That will be a story for another day..