For almost two months now (at least) there has been a spider living in the rear view mirror of my car. I call him Dude. Every morning there is a perfectly spun web from the rear view mirror to the side window that I destroy by driving to work and it's really beginning to break my heart.
See, when I was a kid I read a story in the Reader's Digest about this guy who worked the spotlight at a theater or something like that, I don't really remember that detail I just know it had something to do with lights. The story he told was how a spider had set up shop in this one light fixture and wove a web across this light every night. Every day he would get to work and have to wipe this web out of the fixture. After doing this for some time, he began to notice the webs the spider was weaving were not as intricate and elaborate as they had been at the beginning, they seemed more hastily thrown up as if the spider had either stopped caring or didn't have it in him to weave one perfect web after another any longer. The part of this story that I remember the most was when the guy says "After having so many webs ripped down, I don't know if the spider was able to make another perfect web ever again". I think about this story often when I have to tear down a spider web and it's been tormenting me particularly for the last 2 months. Dude isn't making the pretty and pristine webs that he used to and I can't help but feel responsible and just a little sad. I apologized to him once when I noticed him quickly run down the web while at a red light. He was very good about getting back up behind the mirror once I started to accelerate.
Here are some pictures of his web taken the other morning when it was particularly dewy out. Those gaps wouldn't have been there last month.