On a misty morning, hundreds of gossamer webs reveal themselves to me on my way to the chicken house. The perfect Halloween variety woven between burgundy coloured dock seed heads and long grasses. I knew it was going to be an interesting morning when I woke to the sound of cows mooing not far from my bedroom window. I looked out and they were standing at the gate to their field across our lane for some reason. It was a pleasant country sound so I carried on about my business without feeling any need to go check on them. While I was feeding the chickens, I had the overwhelming urge to check for eggs in the other nest box even though they haven’t laid anything there for weeks. Since we have only three hens left, I’ve been getting just one egg first thing and two more around lunchtime. Today, weirdly, there were two eggs in the unused box and one in the regular spot! I thought that was interesting that I should have the feeling to check and then have instant confirmation that the whispering in my ear needed to be followed up. Sometimes it pays to be still and observe the silent promptings, see where they lead you. I think maybe this is what some people believe is a higher power communicating with us in the form of a small voice. For me, it feels like instinct or a state of being in which our natural abilities as human animals become accessible. We are connected intricately with our surroundings and I believe that if we allow ourselves to be calm and open, we can tap into this network of information. It’s like when animals sense long before that a rainstorm is coming by noticing changes in temperature or atmospheric pressure. I realise it isn’t the same thing to feel something physically like a storm coming versus somehow knowing that there are eggs in the box but it’s all natural magic to me. There are countless examples that plants and animals, insects too, receive invisible information to act upon or witness changes that they may need to act upon later. I spent a while looking at the spider webs thinking that they were like telephone wires that send information to the spider in a physical way and wondered if there is transmission between neighbouring webs. I went inside to fetch a magnifying glass to have a closer look at the spiders to try to identify them. I can only tell you that they are orb-weavers and might be Garden or Diadem spiders (Araneus diadematus). Once it reached 8.30 A.M., my son came out to find me spying at spiders in the meadow and joined me with excitement. We looked at each one and discovered that they were all the same body shape and pattern but in various colours. For the first time, I found myself interested in spiders and appreciated the beauty they had brought to our morning. Their webs made me think of autumn and of all the harvesting and foraging we so look forward to. I’m reassured once again that it was a good plan to allow large areas of the meadow to go to seed. It is time for spiders so take a moment to feel the changing season and just put them outside if they’re invading your space. They are too amazing to squash! Admittedly, I always go get my partner to capture the big ones. It’s difficult to get over a phobia, but appreciating them outside in their natural habitat is a start. Instead of waiting for them to surprise you, grab a magnifying glass and try to catch a glimpse of the orb-weavers in particular. You never know where the experience may take you.