A tiny white spider rides his silk strung among four feet of flowers, bunched for sale at the Gardeners' Market. Suddenly, he shoots across vast space and then straight up, rocketing above the vendor's white van, disappearing into sky.
Home, still stunned by the flight of the spider, I make tea, pour milk, and admire the determined hummingbird who has adopted my feeder as her own. A wary defender of the sugar-water, she perches on the empty flower box and snaps from side to side, ever on watch for the enemy. He appears, and she zaps at him like a machine gun, zips back, and assumes her station.
The doorbell rings twice followed by loud rapping. Mary, my 6-year-old neighbor, clatters her arrival with panache. She and her friend have just finished watching The Parent Trap (I've seen it before Mary announces, amazed, but she just saw it for the first time!) and have come to give me two bunches of her mother's just-planted flowers. In one week Mary has visited three times, and I look forward to many more rappings in the three remaining weeks of her annual visit.
Summer may be showy with big bugs and butterflies, but it's the small package that promises the most delight.
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