With the blue of the sky today, you’d think there had never been anything else but spring here, though I still have residual shivers. Getting out of the car at home today: suspended over the driveway, a single tent worm, dangling on 15-20′ of web-strand, from the oak by the driveway.
No other signs of the beasts. Though if there were, I’d probably not go after them with homemade torches like my father did, to burn them out. We had rather a plague of them when I was younger. They were so plentiful on the ground that, when we drove down our driveway, the popping of them made it sound like we had a gravel drive.
I can’t distill any wisdom from that memory. You’re on your own.
white pebble 