Every morning just as the sun is starting to burn away Fog, tens of not-little spiders decide that my front porch, in front of my garage and my walnut tree are a perfect place to spin their little webs and have breakfast.

Pretty little webs, actually. Little architects that know exactly how to place and support things. They catch raindrops and look like little crystals that reflect tiny little worlds.

But damn, those spiders bite.

And I hate spiders.

I have a huge bite on my shoulder and another one on my right arm, because at night when I come home, there are so many that I have to brush into them to get on my porch.

I've resorted to carrying around a big stick and a flashlight.