He was a complex boy. Losing himself in the woods as a child wandering alone. Marveling at the ingenuity of spiders as they secreted tenuous threads from their bodies to orchestrate a symphonic maze. He watched the silk strands pulled taut like strings plucked by virtuoso harpists experimenting for pitch, tone, and tempo. He felt the rhythm of each delicate note upon note, precision woven into a score, composing a pattern of sheer beauty spun into a deadly – yet perfectly tuned – trap. Captivated and inspired, he became a conductor of waves, a man who rode this net of air. Harmonious vibrations at play. Instruments billowing wind. Directing vessels, waving his wand, the keeper of time, attuned to the emotional ties, the catching of flies, the whistling applause.