July 16, 2025

Good morning!

It’s Wednesday. I’ve always admired people who can step outside, take a quick look around, and confidently tell you exactly what the weather is going to do.

“Ahh,” they say, squinting to the west. “The birch leaves are flashing, gonna be a cold one.” Or perhaps, “See that? The daisies are drooping. We should get rain by noon.”

Currently, my forecasting crystal ball extends only as far as dewdrops on spiderwebs. The saying goes, if the spiders hang out their laundry, you can expect the weather to clear and the sun to come out.

But this has been such a weird summer. Several times already I’ve watched the spiders venture out onto their webs in the middle of the day, shake their heads at the sodden state of their laundry, and retreat back into their dark and hidden corners, presumably for another cup of tea.

Yesterday, however, the sun did come out. The laundry dried, the spiders smiled, and the saying was proven true once more.

“Natural navigation is a game of deduction. To fall for it is to succumb to the chase, a lifelong love of outdoor clues and signs. The clouds become both signposts and forecasters, birdsong makes a map and spiders’ webs show the way.”

—Tristan Gooley

Onwards,

Clara