Into the garden they go to become part of the food chain for the pair of sparrows that nest in the bougainvillaea vines. I rarely take note of their presence. They are quiet, unobtrusive and do their job with amazing efficiency. For that I am quite appreciative. The only occasions I am aware of them is when a guest, sitting in the rocking chair across from the living room sofa, fixates on a spot about three feet above my head.
Eyes glaze over and hands and feet begin to twitch before a quavering voice is found.
Without glancing behind me, I know what's coming. They usually decline and often conjure up excuses for departing early. Explaining how I achieved a state of detente with the gray spiders is much too difficult. I've tried it. First, I would have to explain how I came to share my shower with the cucarachas.