The Eyes Of Helios

Yesterday at dawn I was standing outside watching and photographing a particularly nice monsoon-season sunrise. As the sun was barely peeking over the Swisshelm Mountains it began to look like two smaller suns, side by side, and this created what I hope was the illusion of a pair of incredibly bright eyes:

Eyes In The Sky

Eyes In The Sky

I noticed a shimmery sound to my left and the form of Eos, Goddess Of The Dawn, materialized next to me.

“Oh, hi, Eos! You startled me!”

“Hey, Larry. I noticed you down here and thought I’d better give you a heads-up. Those really are eyes on the eastern horizon. They belong to Helios, and the big H can be a bit cranky first thing in the morning. If I were you I’d get inside, and take that orange dog with you. Otherwise you might find the gaze of Helios mortally intense!”

“What’s a Greek god doing in the Arizona desert?”

“Oh, he gets around. Hey, I gotta hustle over to the San Pedro Valley. I have some new Anasazi sprites helping set up the sunrise over there and I need to see how they’re doin’. See ya!”

Eos shimmered off into the sky, and I called Dingo and hustled her inside.

Larry

An Ocotillo, a Spider, and Doomed Ants

Yesterday afternoon I was out walking with my dog. The sky was overcast and the air was blessedly cool and humid. I squatted down to observe the new growth of an Ocotillo which I had planted some months ago. An odd sight caught my eye, little winged insects were seemingly suspended in a vertical plane to the left of the thorny Ocotillo trunk. Looking closely I could see that the insects were winged ants, probably part of a monsoon-induced nuptial swarm. They were caught in a barely-visible spider’s web, one side of which was anchored to the Ocotillo and the other end — I suppose anchored to the rocky soil?

Doomed Suspended Ants

Doomed Suspended Ants

Ocotillo and Spiderweb

Ocotillo and Spiderweb

This scene told a story to me, a tale of a lone spider seeking an anchor point for its web and ants hoping to mate but having their flight rudely interrupted. I saw the tiny spider lurking among the Ocotillo’s thorns, probably waiting for me to leave so that it could harvest its net’s yield.

Addendum: the following morning I revisited the Ocotillo and found the web almost emptied of prey. The spider was perched near the top of the stalk:

Dinner Time!

Dinner Time!

Larry