Arachni-mania

I've been spending lots of time with spiders lately. Not always on purpose. But with great fascination and much respect.

While awaiting the beginning of our concert the other evening, some of us in the Mt. Desert Summer Chorale are standing in the lovely portico at the St. Saviour's Church. It is cool and comfortable and I quickly realize we aren't alone. As I lean toward an opening in the wall to get a better view of the beautiful courtyard and its rainbow of blooming flowers, a lacy spider's web catches the light. I move in closer so that the entire web becomes visible; it is about ten inches across but is tethered with a slender thread to both sides of the four foot wide opening in the wall. Another choir member is perched in the next opening, right next to the spider and the fantastic web.

"Be careful!" I whisper to my fellow alto as she stands to stretch. What if she forgets where she was sitting and disturbs the web? I quietly point and share my find. Within moments, two other choir members join us as we silently marvel at the delicately woven web. There is a tear in the web in the shape of a rather large teardrop. The spider centers herself in the web and quickly works sideways to the edge consuming the fine threads as she moves. Working her way back to the center as if on a clothesline, the spider continues her meal ravenously. We repeatedly gasp in surprise as the web quickly disappears.

"Do spiders recycle?" we giggle. "Wow! I wonder if she's taking in all that protein because she's getting ready to spin another web and to lay eggs?" Our choir director signals us to line up and I quickly count the openings in the wall so I can check in on our little friend after the concert.
Two hours later, all that remains are two wide threads and a quiet spider. Amazing!

Two weeks ago on our way home from choir rehearsal, one of my carpool buddies, Sharon, told us that a member of the soprano section had been bitten by a brown recluse spider while sleeping on the floor at a friend's house. Dave, our carpool "chaffeur," tells us that this is indeed a poisonous species that demands our attention. "It especially likes to hide in dark places and wood piles," he cautions. Of course, I find it necessary to research the spider on the Internet and turn up some rather horrifying photos of brown recluse spider bites. (CAUTION: These pictures are graphic!)

So imagine my excitement at having two cords of firewood delivered the very next week. Our job: empty out the remnants of the old woodpile from our dark shed and stack this coming winter's firewood. Gulp!

The morning after our concert, I tune in NPR on the bathroom radio before hopping into the shower. How ironic . . . Melissa Block shares a story about E.B. White and Charlotte's Web. Lovable Charlotte A. Cavatica -- I wonder if she has any relatives in Bar Harbor.

And sure enough, two days later while driving back into Bar Harbor for a movie, I noticed a teeny-tiny hitchhiker on my rear-view mirror.

Seen any spiders lately?