I Spy Spiders!

Someone once told me, "You are never more than 3 feet from a spider."  

Yesterday morning I came across a sight that made me believe in that statement.  Fall dew sparkled in the morning sun and illuminated hundreds of cup shaped spider webs clinging to the wild grass in my front yard.  There was hardly room to step between the crystal-beaded webs.  I wondered, are these webs here all the time and I just didn't know it?  I was awe-struck.  But I was also a bit wary of being in the presence of so many spiders at one time.  Arachnophobia?  Maybe, a little.

I know I shouldn't be afraid of spiders, but I can't stop from breaking into a wild-flailing-arm-dance whenever I walk into a web.  There's something unnerving about the feeling of spider silk dragging across my face or in my hair.  My first thought is always, what if there was a spider on that?  And then I flail.  I've tried imagining they are just eight-legged beetles, to no avail.  There's something about their mechanical predator movements that instills an unnatural (or natural) fear in me.  Thank goodness Alaskan spiders don't get much bigger than a thumbnail, and only the Brown Recluse is dangerous to my health.  Nevertheless, I choose to keep a respectful distance.

Undeniably, spiders and their webs are beautiful specimens of engineering.  I am intrigued by their variety and construction.  There are fat-legged jumping spiders, crab-looking spiders, garden spiders with striped legs and bulbous abdomens, floating raft spiders, and those racing black spiders that invade my house in Spring. 

I admit, I used to "dispose" of the spiders that found their way into my abode, but I now have a more humane (and less messy) method.  I keep a 'spider jar' on a windowsill with an old postcard for wrangling those unwelcome guests back outside into their natural habitat.  In this way, I avoid getting my fingers too close and the spider can be safely observed and appreciated through the glass before it is released.  As for webs and shelters, they are as varied in shape and design as the spider: classic geometric circles, funnels, chaotic looking nebulae, curled leaves, bunched grass, and so many more.  Putting aside the skin-crawling aspects of spiders, I find that I can actually enjoy their grotesque diversity and omnipresence in my life, from a comfortable distance of course.