Come hither, hither

“ You must be very mad,” said the spider, “ or you wouldn’t have come to my little insignificant world.”

Yes, I should not have noticed you, if not a mushroom living nearby.

There is a built-in hyperlink in it; once click very close-up, I am brought to your net.

Sorry to disturb you. But, just like honey to the bee, I just cannot pretend you are not in my interest.

Listen, eileeninmd is singing in Mary Howitt's way, "Will you walk into my parlor named Saturday Critters? Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. And I have many pretty things to show when you are there."

Will we see each other again? Go you eat the left side of the mushroom, a bigger you can then made my searching job easier.

Or you prefer to live a normal life, sitting cross legged at one corner, singing "Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing..."

Tech-Savvy

Web construction involves millions of webmasters in the forest is overwhelming. The power of WWW is as explosive as a nuclear bomb.

Thus I see a webmaster is expanding its complicated but beautiful website. "I want more traffic!"

News spreads, and enthusiastic visitors are attracted and get addicted. 

A butterfly who is one of them, ends up spending its life with an open web forever.

It used to feel proud as a tech-savvy butterfly.

Webs

Always hearing about web and its total power, my enthusiastic mushroom friends find themselves so overwhelmed one morning.

They are standing right below a variety of webs: some spiral outward like spokes on a wheel, some look like funnels of doom or harps, while others run thin strands parallelly.

These are beautiful but never catch their eye.

These mushrooms want to know more about me, yet struggle with the webs.

"Is a start button required?"

Pictographic Snoring

A spider's snoring and only a spider's snoring is pictographic.

Zzz...

A little mushroom, as has always been taught, thinks the other way round: there's a will there is a  way. It puffs out its cheeks repeatedly and breathes so forcefully that it turns all purple.

Yet nothing happens, but it never knows, and I shall not tell.

Its dream only comes true in a dream.

Spider, mushroom and me

I find a friendlier spider who has had its breakfast, and is now relaxing in a beautiful morning and in a golden-ray moment. 

Breeze stops blowing, and the spider is posing for me. How lucky I am to be in the right place at the right time.

Happily I take my best shots. Happily I enlarge them in the screen looking for the sexy eyes of the spider.

Oops, something is not right. 

My so called friend did not even bother look at me right from the beginning.

I hear a mushroom giggling, so hard, until it breaks its body.

**Happy Chinese New Year to everyone**

It's a Small World

Hundreds of spiders are so miniature that they look like a lump of dirt. This lump starts to disintegrate when my "up-close" curiosity overwhelms. 

I think of whom to follow initially, but chasing two rabbits means catching neither. I turn to continuous high speed, focus on the big lump and hand over everything to my luck. 

It is easier when the miniature mushrooms are not rabbits.

With such a skinny body, their heads look abnormally huge, and their lucks are very much required when a small breeze comes up.

That is the side effect of extreme dieting.

And bald-headed, and the whole body shrinks under this unshrinkable head that contains a hard brain that determines to be miniature.

And small is beautiful.

A Sneeze, a Cue

Alice and Laura always cross my mind whenever I see a spider once I named a bee Alice and the girlfriend of a beetle Laura a year back. It is a cue, and a sneeze, as the Chinese believe there are people talking about you when you sneeze.

This is a mere myth, and I should understand this. 

But who knows not only Alice and Laura, there may actually be mushrooms, trees, mosses, ferns, monkeys, butterflies, dragonflies and so on that are talking about me. They are waiting for my return to the jungle.

"Why Sunday is so far away?" They murmur.

Inspired

As far as we permit ourselves to open up our eyes now and then, the eternal story-telling will continue.

That is why a spider develops eight eyes so to see more, and to reproduce these exuberant stories that blend together past and present, and that connect imagination and reality in the form of a magical web. 

Some of us then interpret it in a distance, others as a mythbuster would have an in-depth experience by going into it. That is how I who have five eyes stay inspired between being creative or acting like the biggest idiot on earth.

My five eyes: another two from a pair of spectacles and one from the DSLR.

Living Next Door To Alice

The last story was told by a little beetle. Let's hear what the spider has to say this time.

All the time I am here, looking for another chance. 

Come on, Laura, I've been waiting, for a girl like you, to come into my life.

But it is Alice instead, to surrender to me. How sweet she is.

I can't wait to give her more hugs, and more kisses.

So good to have living next door to Alice, though it is not necessarily to be for twenty-four years.

Now I'll never get used to not living next door to Alice...

Please tell Laura I love her

All the time you are here, on the side of my house, prying, and waiting for just one chance. Yet I never notice. 

Now I hear your whisper, a warm hello, in my ear. But I feel it is winter, and I see snow.

People say nothing can be too late. Just learn and improve. But I can be too late to have noticed you.

Please tell Laura I love her.

  *** And this was last heard from a little black beetle.


Link to Your Sunday Best

Watch, and Being Watched

"When I am old, I just want to rest in peace."


"No more bloody alcohol, no more unplugged rap, and no more aerobatic flights in between fingers."


Somehow, things can never come in control, even after the death of a mosquito.

But when a spider is seen jumping away, coming back, and at the same time involving all its eight eyes in analyzing me, and all these repeat for many times, I understand that the dead body serves very good as a bait. 

But then could I be a bait too?  While I am  watching at them, am I monitored by someone else? 


"We may seem lonely, but will never be lonely. Thousands of hidden eyes, 24-hours a day, 7 days a week, are looking at us, secretly." The mosquito would rap if it can.

Dreamy

Was the night quiet when a lunar eclipse took place? Might it be just one of the ordinary nights to the critters in the jungle.

The traces of evident in the morning talk. 

All the harp strings were broken in the night of the concert. And all critters got completely soaked in the rain; the wetter they were, the hotter the atmosphere, and the longer the night lasted.

A careful search see an exhausted spider sleeping very soundly nearby. A curtain is indeed not required. A pillow is indeed not required.

The bed that makes me feeling dizzy tells me that the spider is still dancing a waltz, in a dream, and is still excited in the dream.

Did the lunar eclipse mean something to the spider? Or could the night be a birthday night to the spider? Anyhow, that must be a splendid concert.

Hide and Seek

The little spider wants to avoid me, "No working on Sunday, or pay me double!"

As I am always visible in size, the spider tries to disappear from my sight whenever I arrive. But I am a homo sapiens who always take control of the situation. It can never escape from the corner of my eye as long as it starts losing patience, and makes some movement, though it is tiny.


It is out there posing for me. Who cares about voluntary or otherwise. Result counts.

It stays in the world of homo sapiens, that's it.

"No overtime claim!"

Foxy

When I looked back, to my surprise, the fern frond had changed into a stranger behind me. I never talked bad about it before that, we had just a minor disagreement.

It grew a pair of relatively small and triangular ears, and a long but narrow muzzle; it raised its head, the eyes that showed signs of hatred never moved away from me, and the short brown fur did not look friendly either.

The fern frond was very foxy indeed.

What a cartoon-like behavior, and it was definitely too early to be a werewolf in daylight. I shall surely laugh if a green Hulk was transformed, but what's actually in my mind was Pluto's Devil that had instigated some evil actions, and was now pushing very hard in order for the frond to put them into action.

What a cartoon-like behavior!

I walked away without a second thought, and met many Pluto's Angels on my way downhill.

"When we lose the right to be different, we lose the right to be free." The fern frond had to know that.