Originally published on www.jeffjucha.com


At dusk a couple of weeks ago, I watched a garden spider weave a web in the top corner of the dog park pavilion I sat underneath. I curl my toes when I see most spiders. My toes are curled right now after researching google images to find the type of spider it was. But, there’s something to be said for brilliance and beauty that comes out of the butts of these tiny, brutal predators.

For the greater part of two weeks, I sat at dusk each night while my dogs played and watched who I think was the same female barn spider, craft something that I could not, even if you gave me the time and fantastic butt to do so. Not only did each web deserve admiration for its symmetry, but each web was also devastatingly effective.

Within minutes, she would catch prey. The insects, often much larger than her, would do a number on her beautiful web and by the time I left, it would look nothing like its original form.

I thought to myself, “Well, that explains why she has to build one every night if she wants to eat, there’s probably nothing left by morning.”

This morning, I woke up very early and visited my she-spider as my dogs sniffed around before dawn. Her web was in pieces as if it were a war-torn flag, and she was there, still minding her silk sail. It took me a couple of minutes to realize what she was doing.

She was taking her web down by herself.

She was the one cleaning up.

Every night.

No external force can remove her web and leave that corner as well as she can.

Daytime birds won’t be tipped off by her work and find her.

Sloppy work would mean a less beautiful web, one that doesn’t catch prey as well, one that would give away her position to larger predators with less impressive butts.

Nature doesn’t do sloppy. Day in and day out, she does her web with her very best, and even removes with her very best. She pays attention to the details she can control, so she can reap what her best web can catch.

I’ve watched her from afar, and today I’ve seen her and her web from up close, and the reapings are plentiful, which is good because my she-spider friend is going to be a mom.


Seatbelt, or Never Be The Same

My dad never wore his seatbelt when he drove. Neither did I. Until the day I was in a tragic car wreck. I lost my

Me Lucky Charms

My accomplishments haven’t brought me lasting happiness. But the friends, memories, screw-ups, and adventures along the way have. Some common goals we have on repeat

Use Social, Don’t Let it Use You.

Human beings need boundaries. We build fences to keep our dogs from running into the street. We put walls in the median to prevent collisions


Talk with a coach about your goals. Get the plan to achieve them.


Take the first step towards getting the results you want!