We’re in the last waning days of summer. I just moved to sit outside on the deck, to enjoy the summer sun, but it’s sixty-seven degrees right now, and feeling very much like autumn. The aspen tree has already lost most of its leaves, turning to gold and falling off. Others are already showing color, too. The black walnut is highlighted with yellow here and there. Yet, still, most is green, flowers are in bloom, and a butterfly just flitted by.
Just two days ago, on Sunday, we had what was probably our last boating day of the season. Next time we go up to the boat it will just be to get it over to the boat launch, maneuver it onto the trailer, and bring her to storage to rest for yet another long winter. But Boat Day on Sunday was glorious, with the temperature in the mid-80s, no wind, deliciously, pleasantly warm and summery. The spiders agreed.
The adage, “Even a bad day boating is a good,” certainly must hold true when it comes to this time of year. We hadn’t been up for several weeks, so under the cover that protects our pretty pontoon several generations of spiders had grown. Several generations… entire civilizations of spiders grew and mutated into the most monstrous spiders ever seen. These were Indiana Jones-sized spiders, huge and arrogant in their ownership of what we had lightly assumed–monthly payments aside–was our boat.
The spiders disagreed. And they almost won. I’ve said many times to Husband he is lucky I’m not afraid of spiders. Generally, I’m not, and I’ve even been bitten by a Black Widow spider while we lived in California. These enormous spiders all over our boat and boat cover almost defeated me, turning me into a squealing girl.
These spiders knew if they were brushed away they’d go into the lake and become fish food. They knew so had defenses prepared to defend their pontoon kingdom. They were like Spiderman with his silk thread ready to swing him from place to place. As soon as I’d brush one away it would be right back climbing up on me or toward me.
“Don’t look down!” Husband told me at one point, which I immediately interpreted as “LOOK DOWN AT ONCE!” Yes, it was huge and it was climbing up my chest. Gaaa!
We dumped the spider-infested cover on the dock and had a lovely day boating. In the sunshine they mostly left us alone unless we did something foolish like raise the bimini cover, or try to use the potty-alcove. Still, always lurking was the knowledge that when the beautiful, good day of boating came to an end, we’d have to put that accursed, spider-filled boat cover back one. I was near to whimpering when Geo suggested we just dump the thing in the boat and leave all open to air (and weather and partiers and fisherman looking for a place to sit and fish, etc.). Still, even with leaving our boat unprotected behind us, the good day of boating stayed good for not having to face the spiders again.