Yesterday, through our bedroom window, we noticed a birch leaf caught in a spider web above our blueberry bush, the fine lace secured by main lines attached to fence and eave. Thread by thread, the spider untied the lace from the leaf until it fell and landed in the bush, yellow on red, as if names could color such things. Then she set about her repairs. This morning, she is hidden away, sheltered from the wet, perhaps beneath the very same leaf. And life — life, is our sanctuary.