Spider webs

It's raining and I'm washing dishes. I glance up and see two spider webs clinging to the hawthorn in the back garden. The webs are like delicate necklaces, or faery handbags, their silk textured and weighted by points of rain so exacting it's as though someone has painstakingly strung them with the tiniest of jewels. They swing and glitter there in the dusk as I wash dishes, and give the impression that someone might stop by later to retrieve them.