The Daily Grace
The Daily Grace

Hey. Look.

Jul 16, 2019 | god & grace | 14 comments

IT IS QUIET on this mountain, something that won’t surprise given that our gate is locked, our roads aren’t paved, and the nearest neighbor, of which there are only a handful, is acres and acres away. Add to this the fact we never turn on the television (but for football or evening binging) and you probably are getting the picture.

It is a gift, this silence, a mighty force that holds my introverted, introspective heart in balance.

WHY JUST LAST WEEK we arose to a particularly gentle day. It had rained during the night and the sun, still hidden by clouds and fog, created a beautiful, serene surround. The birds were singing, yes, but the meadow glistened like it had been perfectly cast to create a soft, atmospheric glow. Or not a glow, exactly, more like a wash that left it new, positively glistening.

I walked up the steps to my studio as I do each day we are here, and I got right to work. Throughout the morning I trekked those stairs down and up what must have been a thousand times. I needed my laptop; I’d forgotten my camera; where was that charger, as the dang Ipad on which I was proofing a manuscript will not hold power. On and on it went, up and down, more coffee, a scrambled egg, a cold drink of water.

Long about eleven I ran into Tim who was busy busy scraping and cleaning all manner of wood as he is spending his summer painting this house and its endless decks. You see all those spider webs? he said. This surprised me as, relatively speaking, we see fewer spiders up here than you might well suppose.

No, I said. Where?

Everywhere, he said. They are everywhere.

And sure enough, they were.

He pointed out one strung between deck railings, and then another, one railing down.

Then two more.

Up, look up, Tim said.

In the trees.

And I saw in the tall fir there were three, maybe more, no ten, no fifteen webs. Maybe twenty! On and on they went, as if the great force that had come in the night that had so perfectly adorned the meadow as a bonus had added these.

A quiet collection,

a convocation, if you will, of delicate, intricate,

breathtaking works of art.

It was something to behold, something I almost missed.

I must remember to look, I reminded myself.

I must remember to always, always look.



  1. Meg

    We like spiders. Our favorite is the “writing” spider because he leaves notes. Love, Nancy
    (Dictation by Meg)

    • Cathy

      I need to learn about the writing spiders! Thank you Aunt Nancy and cousin Meg! 🙂

  2. Melissa Ligon

    Your posts never fail to lift my spirits and my heart. Thank you, Cathy.

    • Cathy

      I am so grateful to you for commenting. It makes my heart so happy when someone I adore is touched. Thank you, Melissa!

  3. Cindy

    Your words are lyrics that need a melody my sister! Beautiful..

    • Cathy

      What a lovely thing to say. Thank you, friend.

  4. Sally

    Oh my word!! What a gorgeous web, what wondrous words! I miss you! I adore you! I am in awe of you!

    • Cathy

      I miss you, too. Thanks for commenting!

  5. Cheryl

    I love this reminder, Cathy! Thank you!!?

    • Cathy

      Oh, thank you, friend!

  6. Anita White

    Wow! That is so unbelievable and beautiful….thanks for sharing

    • Cathy

      Thanks, Anita! Happy you enjoyed. 🙂

  7. Cheri

    Wonderful. Thanks for sharing these.

    • Cathy

      Hey Cheri. Thanks for reading and commenting 🙂


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Cathy Rigg Headshot

Hi. I’m Cathy.

This is a blog about writing, creative living, and grace in the everyday. It’s my hope this little spot on the internet will be for you a place of quiet and reflection, a source for inspiration, and a reminder there’s beauty all around—we simply need to keep our hearts open to see it. Thank you for being here with me.

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