I love when the symbols change, the signals of next and new. Before now, the last few years were thick with birds around me, and constantly finding feathers on the ground, in my bag, on my clothes. Before that, it was years of garter snakes and bees.

Aside from a few found feathers here at this house in late summer, nothing presented itself. Those feathers were almost like a handoff or assurance, a sort of: this is where we leave you.

No birds visit my feeders here. There was the strange fly infestation, constant scout ants, then the two bee stings. Those all seemed to signal a finality, like a firmly placed bookend. Then, there was the eclipse, like the end of a reel of film finishing as a new one rolls out empty length, before the short countdown. In August, one obvious, wonderful moth on my door for several days, but that was all.

Now, here, it’s all spiders, ladybugs, and slugs. I’m so curious about this. A ladybug slowly crawling across my keyboard, another on my doorframe, another on my shirt. They were active and vibrant and just greeting, but due to the season, also sort of urgent.

With the spiders, it feels like the whole house is fully encased outside in cobwebs. It feels protective — many, many webs in every direction. Precise sentries sitting at the center of the crafted traps, waiting. And two nights ago, the one across my jeans, gentle and calm, just sauntering a hello.

And today I got in my car and where a passenger should be, was just an extremely fine and delicate web, from passenger visor to headrest, and the little spring greenish web spinner was hanging from the rearview mirror, like: see? It was gorgeous and she had built it in a little over 14 hours.

Slugs have specific significance for me, and it’s interesting to see them now (if sometimes in the house). Their presence communicates a lot to me, very clearly. Less of a bookend and more of a several page visual break between dense stories in a collection.

I’m curious to see if these will remain turning up. And, if they will perpetuate their significance and messages. While I’m grateful for these (the sudden flies and ants were alarming), I have to say, I miss the birds a bunch. Not having a transparent window over the sink has been a little loss, but gaining immense north facing windows has balanced that out.