|Click to enlarge. Do you know what kind of spider this is?|
She was sweeping out her porch and looking for breakfast in the open doorway of the woodshed. She seemed to be taking the web apart even as she made her way around it with a silken thread attached to her behind, and it didn't appear as if her web had trapped any prey. There were bits of straw stuck to it; it's windy here. Always windy.
There is serious flooding in the southern part of the province, and here in the east-central area it continues to rain and the water lies on top of the ground, unabsorbed. Smish smish smish go my shoes when I walk across the grass.
The oriental poppies, bright orange fluffs, may be drooping but the ducks outside my back door don't appear to have noticed anything amiss.