Darkness has fallen, and only the stars are left to provide guidance. The town sleeps, but his work is far from finished. He climbs the tree and carefully spins a string of silk for his web. Only the finest materials can be used for such a creation. He attaches one end of the string to the highest branch, allowing himself to hang from it. At that moment, a small gust of wind pushes him up and towards the nearest branch. He reaches out with his eight legs and grabs hold, attaching the other end of the string and completing the bridge. From then on, it is all instinct. Swiftly and silently, he climbs back and forth between the branches. He works like an architect, crafting a perfect frame before perfecting the details. From the outside in, he makes each circle with as much care as the last. When the morning sun ascends from beneath the horizon, he is still attaching the final strings. As the town awakens, it is finally his time to rest.

But imagine that the spider is a young schoolboy, and the tree is his desk. He works carefully through the night, inspired only by his vision of the end result. His web is a project that must be completed, no matter what stands in his way. His focus and concentration is both a blessing and a curse.