I remember how in the first period of my depression attack I’d walk the streets and nearly got run over a few times. I would walk and completely not be there, I would be so absent, it’d just be walking without me. And I got inches away from cars coming from sideway streets; and later on, somewhow it’d only happen when I’d be accompanied, in a group, I’d cross the streets so nonchalantly and be passed by cars without getting run over, that Id awe them people with my carelessness. It was not a habit. I don’t know how come so many chances have passed me over. I was on a train by the window on the hallway for significant periods of times on these long journeys. I left the window and got back to the chamber and a rock was thrown and reached the hallway, exactly on my spot. It missed me by seconds.
I may have taught this spider to knit.
I was finishing the last 20 rows at the park, when this little spider wandered over to me, It climbed up my knitting bag, and walked all up and down the piece, then climbed onto my hand and watched me for a couple rows.
After the second row it started waving it’s front four legs as if to get my attention. Once I was looking at it, it started pulling silk from its spinneret, and fiddling with it. I don’t know if it was knitting or purling as it was quite small scale, but every few seconds it would stop and look up at me to see if I was still watching. After a little bit I moved it to one of the vines overhanging the archway I was sitting in, and it went about its business.
This wasn’t the only unusual thing that happened at the park today, but it was the most unusual.
Maybe it thought you were a spider