Spiders deserve better. For too long they have been treated like common insects, persecuted and maligned. Stop the hate! Put down that can of pesticide. Lay aside the swatter. Put the vacuum cleaner back in the closet. Stop shaking and get down off the counter.
Control your primal urges. Master your fears. Subdue the need to squish, scream, or stomp. Live and let live. Be cool.
Spiders are our friends, not our enemies. Do you know you have a better chance of dying from a misguided champagne cork than a spider bite? Oh sure, there is the occasional ill-tempered black widow or brown recluse, but what species doesn’t have a few knotheads in the mix? Besides, they have been here since the beginning, and they are not going anywhere soon.
What needs to change about spiders is our attitude. We need to re-evaluate “creepy” and “crawly.” We need to see them for the genius they are.
So, come on a little safari with me. A backyard safari, that is, home to some of the most amazing creatures on the planet.
My whole perspective regarding arachnids changed one Friday evening earlier this summer. My wife and I were sitting on our deck watching the sun checkout, oblivious to the micro-world surrounding us, when suddenly a spider sat down beside her. Unlike Little Miss Muffet, who panicked and sprang from her tuffet, Miss Sandra stayed steady. And we watched in amazement as the min-contractor went to work.
She (we know it was a female because they do all the hard work) scampered up a tree limb and then bungee jumped to the rail below, stopping abruptly just before contact. For a few minutes she ran from limb to deck and back again, the whole time leaving a trail of silk behind her. Once the triangular points were secured, she started running concentric circles, each loop the exact distance from the prior one.
We got dizzy just watching.
Finally sensitized to the flurry of activity unfolding around us, we noted another web under construction. And another. And another. Within six feet of us, at least six hyper orb-weavers worked the space between the deck railing and the bottom limbs of the live oak.
They were obviously working against the clock. Somehow they knew that the nightly mosquito pilgrimage was about to begin. Within seconds of completion, the lead mosquito hit the trap. The spider raced from the shadows, tied the stunned victim to the web, and bit him once for good measure. Dinner would come later.
Scientific photography has recently documented the encounter between spiders webs and mosquito squadrons. The insects hit the web with such force that it stretches just to the breaking point (over 200%!), but spider engineers, calculating the size and speed of their prey, always have the perfect size web in place. Spider silk, five times stronger than steel and still unduplicated by modern polymers, is the ideal combination of strength and elasticity.
But don’t think spiders are all science and no art! Of all the trillions of webs spun through the millenniums, no two are exactly alike. It appears each individual creation is an autograph model.
The silk itself is sticky and clingy (ever walked out the door and ran into one face first?), and serves the spiders purposes by securing their prey for the brief moment it takes to sprint across the web.
I know what you are thinking. If it’s sticky, how can the spider slide effortlessly across the surface? Well, because the itsy bitsy spider comes from the factory with three claws on the end of each of its seven-jointed eight legs, four of which are mounted on each half of its two main body parts. The middle claw grasps the silk strand in such a way that the hungry weaver slides like a ring on a cable. Call it a serious home turf advantage. God thinks of everything.
For an hour we watched these common, run-of-the-yard orb-weavers catch hundreds of mosquitoes. Citronella doesn’t hold a candle to nature’s relentless killing machines.
Spiders can inspire. No wonder the world’s greatest super hero dresses in a red and blue cobweb and shoots silk from his wrists. Should we expect anything less?
Real-life jumping spiders can leap forty times their body length. That’s comparable to an Olympic athlete broad jumping the length of a football field! What’s more, they feature four sets of eyes that work in stereoscopic precision so the talented predator can judge the exact distance between its location and snack. They don’t miss.
But don’t get to thinking that spiders are all work and no play. They also like to have fun, especially with members of the opposite sex.
When a male becomes attracted to a female, he approaches her web with caution, which is a wise maneuver, considering that in most spider populations, she is twice his size. Unsure what disposition he will find her in, he plucks an outside strand and plays it like a harp. She in turn plays him like a sucker.
He brings his courting gift (she adores flies) into her presence and asks for permission to mate. She normally agrees, and then following the brief encounter, kills and eats him.
No wonder spiders get some bad press.
In some species (There are nearly 40,000 different kinds of spiders scattered around the world. One of the reasons they are scattered is that some species make silk parachutes and float hundreds of miles through the air, just riding the breeze!), the mother gives birth to hundreds of little ones at one time, and then promptly dies so the kids can eat her carcass and find strength to move across the pasture and duplicate the stunt.
God made spiders grotesque for a reason. I suggest it’s because He wants you frightened by them so you don’t squish them so they can be about His business. They have responsibilities.
Everything works for God, you know! He designed everything to accomplish His purposes. We all come from the celestial factory equipped precisely as He desires. It is no accident that mankind, and not spiders, are made in God’s image. We are His for a reason.
Are you paying close attention to His work in you?