One day, I noticed a large spider web suspended between the eaves of the backyard. I couldn't help but wonder: Can spiders fly? If not, how did they manage to stretch the first thread across the void of more than a zhang (approximately 3.3 meters) between the two eaves? Upon closer observation, I realized that the spider took many detours. It started from one eave, tied a knot, and climbed down the wall, moving forward step by step with extreme caution. It raised its tail high to ensure the silk did not touch the sand, stones, or any other objects on the ground. After crossing the open space, it climbed up the opposite eave. Once it reached a similar height, it tightened the thread. It repeated this process for every subsequent thread.
Although spiders cannot fly, they are able to weave their webs in mid-air. They are diligent, sensitive, silent, and resilient insects. Their webs are crafted with precision and regularity, spreading out in a bagua (eight-trigram) shape, as if aided by divine intervention. Such an achievement inevitably brings to mind the quiet, reserved individuals and the wise sages who keep their talents hidden. Thus, I have learned this lesson: A spider may not fly, but it still manages to build its web in the air. Miracles are created by those who persist.