Shared Spaces

 

I like to think I’m a good housekeeper—or in my case, a cabin-keeper. I do the usual things to keep up with it. And honestly, in such a small place, it’s not too hard.

But then I saw him (her?).

Nestled on the second-to-bottom log in the bathroom, he had created a very sweet, neatly netted web. Yes. A spider.

And for my arachnid-phobic family members: you’ve been warned.

When I leaned down to admire his craftsmanship, he instantly scuttled to the far side of the log—clearly aware of my reach and unimpressed by my curiosity.

I tried to offer him an exit strategy. Outside. Fresh air. Freedom.

He declined.

So I wiped away his home on my side of the log.



The next morning, he was back. He hadn’t rebuilt yet—just stood there, as if inspecting the damage. A quiet assessment.

He darted away again before I could even attempt to introduce him to my waiting jar.

So we’ve made a deal.

He can stay on his side of the log, as long as he doesn’t build anything on my side. Boundaries, right?

Now I just need to make sure he understands that visiting hours are strictly limited—especially when my family is here.

Even in the quiet woods, it seems life is still teaching me about shared space, patience, and the grace of letting others be.


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