Morning coffee on the porch. Grateful for the time to watch the magical acrobatics of what I think is a cankerworm.
The lifeline thread it was suspended by invisible to my imperfect vision.
The wind moves the invisible silk and spins the tiny creature like a Coast Guard rescue bucket out of control.
I watch as it finally lowers itself, nearly touching the ground but then like a cat touching water with its paws, retracts and lifts up back to the sky.
Back to the tree foliage to gorge as it prepares to move from a spring larvae to becoming a moth, not limited to floating randomly but to winged flight.