Spiders

This past week I have been a spider magnet. Little red ones, furry black ones, grey long legged ones walking on my dash board, to mention a few. Maybe it is my emerging age, or my own witness to the sacred nature of life, but I would rather relocate a spider or step over it than smash it. I am neither a pacifist nor an entomologist. As I have shared numerous times I grew up on the edge of the desert. I remember the first time I encountered a tarantula. To a seven year—old, a four inch spider looked something like a star for the most recent Jurassic Park movie. So from a bit of distance I find spiders interesting.

I have a short list of spiders that will get the Kleenex squish— “Black Widows, and Fiddle Backs”. My compassion has limits. Country music star Jim Stafford made a cute love song hit about “Spiders and Snakes”. I am not sure it set their popularity on a positive spin. Where I am with both of these creatures is, “Live and let Live”. The phobias around eight legged insects or poor snakes, who caught the rap for human sin, are unfortunate. They are sort of like people. Most of them are no threat to humans and actually serve a positive purpose. Like humans, about five percent of them give the rest a bad reputation.

My favorite spider is the common Garden Spider. I marvel at their ability to create a web that is an architectural wonder. You have got to love anything that will eat flies and mosquitoes. In our month in Kauai last winter, we were greeted every morning with the work of Crab spiders. Somehow over night, they managed to make every sidewalk where there were trees, a maze of spider silk. It would get all over you and their night’s work would be torn down. They never got the point, as the next day it would all be back.

My favorite spider growing up was the Daddy Long Legs. They were copious in Pueblo. Maybe it was their name but they were intriguing and fun for an 11 year—old to watch. I was always amazed that they were all legs and little body. Even the way they walked seemed humorous. Fiddle Backs (Brown Recluse) are triple creepy. They are solitary, make no web and are stealthy hunters. They give me “The Willie’s”. I took great comfort that they, at one time were not in Colorado… well they are here and can be very dangerous.

Then there is the Black Widow, who after mating kills her husband and eats him. When I learned that I briefly considered celibacy. They occupied the window wells of my family home. That bright orange hour—glass was like a Hells Angels leather jacket. ‘Don’t mess with me’ was its message. As long as they stayed outside my dad’s rule was ‘leave them alone’.

One of may favorite camp songs was about the old lady who swallowed the spider that “wriggled and giggled and jiggled inside her. She swallowed the spider to catch the fly. I don’t know why she swallowed the fly,,,perhaps she’ll die”.

Onward and Upward,

Mark