The Nursery Web Spider – a visitor in my garden

Nursery Web Spider with Egg Sack

She appeared one day sitting on her egg sack, and had spun a small nest in a leaf nearbye, her maternity station.

Nursery Web Spider with Egg Sack

She then disappeared for a while, sitting in the maternity ward and awaiting the birth. Of course she did not realise that her steps were being photographed.

Nursery Spider with babies

She did not seem to care what happened around her. It rained, it stormed, but she was there keeping an eye on her babies. They were still in the egg sack and she was waiting for the big day.

Nursery Spider with babies

The day arrived, the egg sack burst, and her babies entered the world. They were all staying together, wondering what would happen next.

Nursery Web Spider babies

Day by day they grow, not so fast and at the moment they take a walk now and again. Mama seems to have disappeared, probably because they now have to grow up on their own. At the moment they are growing fast. I do not know what will happen next, but here is the latest photo. More to come perhaps.

The babies have arrived - Nursery Spider Web

Daily Prompt: Rolling Stone

If you could live a nomadic life, would you? Where would you go? How would you decide? What would life be like without a “home base”?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us TRAVEL.

Riders in Feldbrunnen

Living in the country with a stable near bye is fine if you love horses, are not afraid of them, can easily mount them and climb down again without catching your foot in the stirrup or whatever, then that is the way to go. You also have to know how to ride the animal and not being a rider, the feel of a warm living body makes me nervous, it’s alive. Of course, it might be that the horse is a little nervous and does a kick; you might fall to the ground and be dragged across country until the horse has recovered from his nervous attack. No problem, there is always someone that might see what happens and if it is a “civilised” country then rescue is quickly there by ambulance, or helicopter.

It would be nice to just forget everything and everyone. Just pack a rucksack, wave goodbye and go. A one way ticket to somewhere, who cares where.

Yes, that’s the life. No cares, just I, me and myself. Now do not forget the tablets for your diabetes. You never know. It could be you are in one of those nomadic countries where everyone lives half in the desert and half on a camel. Where would you get your necessary supply of tablets and if you might need insulin, that would be a problem. My experience in Marrakesh, Morocco showed me that the locals live on sugar more or less. They love their tea flavoured with a sugar loaf. The hot tea is poured over it and you can imagine the nice syrupy pro diabetec solution as a result. So no, I will not nomad myself to Africa again.

I have balance problems, known as Menière so the Himalyas do not come into the question.

Let’s go to India. I love Indian food, but it might be that I contact diarrhea, hepatitis, typhoid, or tetanus as well as malaria or dengue fever. I know you can get immunised against all of this. Take tablets for weeks before you go and then everything is fine – or is it. My dad caught malaria when he was in the army in Italy of all places. He told me it is not pleasant shivering the days and nights away. When he came home from his service, he had another attack. Apparently when the “mozzies” get you there is no escape, although he is now almost 98 years old and has other problems. Anyhow, India does not appeal.

There is not much left. I was thinking a nice trip to Istanbul would be fine. They have such lovely architecture and get to know the people but…. Yes, they have revolutions, street fights and are generally not happy with the government. In this connection all Arab countries would be eliminated, they never seem to be happy with any government. The odd tourist, even journalist, gets caught in crossfire and comes home in a wooden box, or in an urn.

I am half English, so London is the place to go. Even then I got robbed on the train when embarking on my journey. That is another story, and it happened on the Swiss train to Zürich airport You are not safe anywhere today.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to travel. We have such a nice train system in Switzerland, our cable cars are safe and our roads cover the complete country, although now and again, especially in Summer, we have traffic congestion. Beware nomads coming to Switzerland in Summer. We repair the Winter damage on the motorways on the summer days and it might just be that only one way traffic exists in some places.

This brings me to “thumbing a lift”. It is free, you meet the locals and see things you might not see otherwise. Of course the risk of being robbed or assaulted is quite high and if you do not speak the language you could have problem. How many of our happy and carefree nomads have tried to explain their situation in a police station. The police laugh all the time, nod their heads, but do not understand.

As far as the home base is concerned, who needs a home? Just put your tent up where you feel like it, as long it is not forbidden by the local authorities. You might camp in the wrong place. Who wants to share a night’s rest with an ant’s nest? Cooking is so easy today when travelling. Light a fire somewhere in the country. The firemen are quickly there to put it out. Of course if you set fire to a forest you will have problems, but that is the carefree nomad way of life.

Taking everything into consideration, I suppose I am just a little too old for that sort of life. My younger days were spent on holidays in a hotel, in a nice safe tourist place (although they are not always so safe) and my travel was done by plane and train and car. Main thing is I survived to show my holiday photos afterwards.

This probably all sounds so conservative and negative, but not everything is gold that shines, and a carefree life on the road is for me something for a Hollywood film, or television programme, where it is all nicely organised and protected.

Daily Prompt: Rolling Stone