Yesterday I sat on my balcony and watched a spider weave its web.
It was nice to sit and not be in a hurry to do something. I reminded me of Thoreau. I just sat and watched as the spider carefully crossed underneath the web like a monkey on a jungle gym. It hooked the thread in regular rows, though sometimes it made a mistake. It never went back and tried to fix anything, it just kept moving forward. Maybe spider silk is too sticky to pull off and reapply?