As I arrived, the two gardeners working in the rose garden had just finished with their dead-heading and pruning. There was not a single rose head in the garden. There were no leaves on the beech tree any more, such a contrast with the glowing leaves of a couple of weeks earlier. The garden was retreating into itself.
My first thought was that a spider had spun a thread to keep the last petal hanging on to the centre of the rose. I looked more closely, and there was a little green spider, sitting in the middle. I touched her with my nail. She opened up her legs. It looked like she had spun the whole rose, that it was an extension of herself.