Slowly, the sun fell, as across the river, all manners of life, crept quietly into their small homes, dug into the tree'd mountainside. And as the last rays of sun glinted off the cool rivers depths, a chill fell across the valley. And life fell still, Til the darkest hour of the night, when the sun was gone, yet the moon has yet to rise, then, a tiny, tiny being stirred. Set out on a strange task, to create a home, in the dead of night. Slowly, the tiny spider, crawled from the grass, stretching her fragile limbs in the chilly winter air, she made her way to a small dent, barely noticeable, laying in the grass. There, she chose, to build her home. Quietly, she spun a web, back and forth, across the clovers and into the weeds, a tiny web, a suitable home. Long into the night, til finally, with a moon high overhead, she rested below its surface, protected from the world, and slept, High overhead, the moon shone down upon the tiny creation, and it glistened in the pale, night rays. Slowly the moon fell, further and further down, til all was dark once again. Until the morning sun stained the valley sky a brilliant red, and rose. To reveal a new wonder. There, in the grass. Shining like a million diamonds, lay her home. Glistening in the early morning sun. Laden with dew. Slowly, the tiny, wee spider, crawled from her nest, and stared across its reaches. Then turned, and made her way through the tall blades of grass. As all life woke, and the day began.
Thanks to Jasmiene Moonsong, for all the inspiration and care.