I have always been fascinated by spiders and spider webs. Not that I particularly wish to find them in the Little Bayou House but I have been known to not kill them. It is a fact that I will gently catch and move a spider if it is deemed bothersome. Spiders are good. They eat other critters that infest homes. To my way of thinking, it is far better to have a couple of spiders than a house full of roaches, fleas or other creep-crawly critters. Don't get me wrong here! I will occasionally kill a spider. Brown recluses or any of the widows are on the "evil" list. I was bitten years ago by a black widow and do not wish to repeat that! To be honest, I get bit by some sort of spider almost weekly but the widow did the most harm.
Another facet of the world of spiders that I adore is their webs. While I admit that (again) I am not fond of them in the house, outside is a different story. The webs are interesting. Let a light fog or misty rain fall upon the Bayou and every web is a jewel-encrusted decoration! The sheer strength of the webs to hold so much water is impressive. Most of the spider webs are of the orb type. The spiders will string webs between two trees, in the marsh or even on the side of the house, itself. Once the fog rolls in, the webs catch the drips and hold them tight. Occasionally, I will come across a web of one of the "tangle-web" spiders. These are the ones that build webs with no particular design other than a mass of sticky silks. Think cobwebs here. The tangle-web spider family includes the pretty docile house spiders, several species of the yard spiders AND the widows.
Walking after the rain the other night, I came across a tangle-web. One of the common yard spiders that created its web between some twigs and grasses. The spider was not to be found. The web had been abandoned during the torrential downpour. With the spider gone, I was able to confidently examine the web without fear of disturbing my little friend. Yep, it was definitely a tangled mess! It was easy to see how a hapless bug could become ensnared in this mess!
The web was left intact just on the outside chance that Friend Spider was going to return. Perhaps with the next hike the spider can be identified and photographed but, for now, the web was my interesting find of the day.
Early this morning, a heavy fog blanketed the Bayou. My steps were softly muffled by the wet leaves and a certain stillness engulfed the area. I was cut off from the "civilized" (and I use the word lightly there) world and was left in the wild for a bit. It is always exhilarating at times like this. The pea-soup thick fog made it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of me which always is a bit of a hair raising moment. You get this feeling that all eyes are watching your every move. To be honest, foggy mornings are my favorite time to hike. The critters of the Bayou are out and about as they are concealed as well.
Of all the beauty that does surround me on these hikes, I think the spiderwebs are perhaps a favorite. In the heavy fog, they become jewel-laden adornments for the tree branches or reeds. This morning, there were hundreds of cobwebs draped among the limbs. As I photographed some webs, a thought of how there is a similarity between the spiderwebs and life. What seems simple at first sight, is actually more complex when you really began to study it. The creation of the web takes time to perfect as does our own attempt to make our way in this old world. Rush it and it becomes a mess. One rash move can cause everything to come crashing down around us. Even a small disturbance can have a ripple effect that makes things become discombobulated.
The similarity does not end with the trials that can create a mess. The spider does not give up when her web is torn by an intruder or sags due to water droplets. She merely takes it down and rebuilds it to be even better. In life, as with the spiderweb, to make things right again, you learn, rebuild and make things stronger than before. That persistence to carry on is what makes things worth the effort. Seeing the beauty that is created (and often recreated) gives us the desire to push forward and be better than before. Just like the spider spinning her elaborate web, we are creating our intricate, beautiful life. It pays to do things calmly and rationally no matter how many times we have to redo them. Fog. cobwebs and life...they all make you think.
It is really odd how a vision, sound or smell can trigger a memory from long ago. Perhaps this occurs more often now that I am aging as I do not remember it ever happening in my youth. Age does strange things to, not only the body, but also the mind. I find myself dwelling on things I learned in the past then promptly forgot. Maybe forgot is the wrong word since these tidbits of information come flooding back at any prompted notice. The more accurate description could be that the data was pushed far in the cobwebbed coated corners of the brain. (At this point, think of that dusty old box in the back of the attic where no one dares go because it may be haunted!) Anyway, those bits of information, memories or subdued emotions all come flooding back with the least bit of provocation when you get to be my age.
This afternoon, I was happily puttering around in the garden plot minding my own business when thoughts started interfering with my work. A lovely squadron of white pelicans gracefully glided overhead causing all chores to come to a complete halt. Into the brain popped thoughts of Fairie Lyn. This lady was Mom's cousin and was probably one of the smartest folks I have ever had the privilege to know. Over the years, she tried her best to instill some of that knowledge in my brain but, for the life of me, I cannot find it. Among the many things that she did in her life, one of her favorite pastimes was birding. She knew just about any type bird out there, could recognize it by flight pattern, could mimic most calls and could spout of the life history of the bird. While I was still a youngster, she took me on several outings with her "bird group". To be honest, it annoyed me. As a kid, all I could see was a bunch of "old people" with binoculars stuck to their faces while they murmured things like "Ahh! There is a yellow-billed cuckoo! This is such an exciting day!" or "My goodness! There are TWO common loons!!" Yeah, well people, you are all a tad cuckoo and act like a bunch of loons! was all that I could think. I wanted to romp around on the sand dunes when we went to the island. I wanted to swing on the vines when we were walking the creek beds. I wanted to be a kid and not be hushed or told to be still as I would scare the birds. Phooey on birding!
Things change. As I aged into an adult, I cherished the time spent with Fairie Lyn. She and I went birding. We went to concerts. We went to the ballet. I found she was just as quirky as I am. We tangled at times but it never changed our relationship. As she said, "We are true partners in crime!" I never retained all of the information she tried to push at me but, at times, tiny bits worm their way into the forefront of the brain chamber. Those thoughts haunt me just enough to make me research what she was trying to tell me for free. A few of the things come in loud and clear. Like the identities of the white pelicans. I knew it was them simply by the black wing bars that show only when they are in flight. I knew that they do not dive like the brown pelicans. I knew that these birds will only be here on the Bayou for a short time during the winter. All of these things were "Fairie Lyn" identifying facts. I believe that my intense love of the birds of the Bayou (whether year long friends or migratory ones) is all due to my early experiences with Fairie Lyn.
Speaking of this dear lady (rest her soul), I always loved her name. Fairie Lyn! What a perfectly magical name to give a baby girl! And to think...she had an older sister named Fern! Yep, my great aunt really knew what she was doing when she named those two! I do wish Fairie Lyn would have been here today to see the pelicans gliding overhead. I bet she could have filled me in with a lot more information about the birds.
Every now and again as I am meandering about the place, a sight, sound or smell will jog a memory that has been long hidden in some dusty corner of my brain. The memory is covered in cobwebs and all but unrecognizable but it IS there. Sometimes, the memory is not clear and I struggle to bring it to light so I can wallow in the bliss that comes with recollections of the past. Perhaps this split second memory is nothing more than a brain trick but it often comes with a bit of yearning of something that is there...yet is not. The feeling is hard to explain but with it comes an overwhelming desire to search...for the unknown.
Yesterday morning as I was walking the old dog, one of those brain blips wormed its way into being. The sun was just peaking over the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou and sent beams shooting through the oddest places. This cast some unsettling shadows about the place but also created points of curiosity. From the garden gate, there appeared to be almost a darkened tunnel to a brilliant point of light. I had that nagging urge to follow that light even though it merely led to another part of the yard.
That "dark tunnel" sent the wheels of my mind turning and churning. Somewhere, somehow, some time, I had been in just such a tunnel with the light at the end. Where? How? When? I have no clue but the sight left a yearning for something from my past. I really must dust the corners of my brain and pull down the cobwebs so I can see a bit clearer when it come to these things.
In the herb garden, there is one bunch of garlic chives growing in a rather large box. This box is situated right next to another (even larger) box that contains onion chives. The chives do well in the boxes but since they all seed profusely, chives are everywhere! About once a week, I have to use the lawnmower or weed trimmer to keep the chives from looking like a weedy mess. Today while Mark and I were meandering about in the gardens, I discussed what the garden plans were. Seeds were purchased last week and all that was needed was for me to prepare the rows. I was telling him how many wolf spiders I find under the leaves and mulch in the boxes when I spied a nice web. This web, however, was not made by my handsome wolf spiders. This was a "sheet" web and was rather large. I spanned between the corners of the two boxes making it a good fifteen inches wide and as much long. Never had I seen one of these before...at least, not this large.
Searching for the spider that made such an intense web proved futile. It was my thought that to make such a fine web, the spider would be large and would be easily seen on the web. Most spiders stay on the edge of their webs while awaiting the hapless bug to become ensnared. Though I searched, nary a spider was found. How odd!
A bit of research on sheet web spiders leads me to believe that my master web builder is probably none other than a tiny grass spider. These little arachnids spin massive, non-sticky webs and then crawl off to hide nearby. They are so in tune to the vibrations of the web that there is no need for the stickiness. They are also extremely fast spiders! Once an insect crawls, falls, or flies into the web, the spider simply races from its hiding spot to pounce on the hapless critter.
I was impressed with the amount of webbing spun to make this fine trap. Not only was it huge, it was multiple layers thick. Although, there seemed to be no pattern involved, it appeared to be well made and strong. My new name for these grass spiders that produce sheet webs??? Trampoline spiders! It seems as if they spin the perfect trampoline for bugs to enjoy before they meet their demise!
