The Not So Itsy Bitsy Spider

I pulled into my driveway just as I had done hundreds of times before, but this time something caught my eye. It was big enough to notice but too small to discern what might be clinging to the gate. I decreased my speed while rolling my window down. There was a giant, perfectly spun web with its architect positioned exactly in the center. I had never stopped and appreciated the beauty of an insect quite like this before. I grew up in the Midwest where camping trips, summer picnics, wilderness hikes, and river floats dominated my childhood memories. Many of these experiences included encounters with box turtles and garter snakes. However, this was the first time I fully appreciated the intricacies and complexity of a creature this small in size. I had to document this sight in its entirety. The automatic gate began to close as I fumbled for my phone. Carefully aligning the camera in a position to include every aspect, I clicked the capture button. Suddenly, it was brought to my attention that if I didn't pull up quickly the gate would collide directly with my side mirror. I floored the accelerator and my car jumped forward just as I heard that much-dreaded sound. The rear end of my car did not escape and a metal post grazed my taillight. Even before jumping out to investigate the damage, I opened my camera application to make sure I had gotten the shot. The single picture was saved in my photograph history. I knew that the gate's movement would disturb my subject thus reducing any chance of obtaining the picture I desired after its closure. My dad and brother were the first to receive the image from me with an inquiry as to whether they might be able to identify it. "A Garden Spider," they both responded. "Most likely a female judging from its size and coloring," my dad added. Argiope aurantia has many more commonly used names that denote the spider’s distinctive black and yellow markings.

Typically, I do not give much thought to arachnids or other insects that may be considered pests. Their presence doesn’t bother me but if found in my home, I will relocate them to the great outdoors where they belong. However, my two daughters claim to be deathly afraid of spiders. Always mystified as to where they developed this "phobia", I suspected them being more dramatic than fearful. Possibly one of their babysitters had planted the seed that spiders were something to be scared of. My understanding of arachnophobia to be a common but unreasonable fear made me unsympathetic. I couldn’t wait to show them what had made its home on our front gate. Upon returning not even an hour later from school pick-up with my girls in tow, the entire scene had disappeared. No trace of the web remained, and the spider had vanished. I couldn't find any evidence she had ever even been there. They began to get suspicious and asked why I had stopped the car and was staring at the gate. Bewildered “She's gone!” was all I could say. Her absence was just as mystifying as her presence had been to me.

I began my online research and uncovered that the photograph I had taken was rarer than I originally thought. According to the National Wildlife Foundation’s website, orb-weaving can take as little as an hour. The Yellow garden spider will construct and remove its web daily. They work to catch prey at night enhancing survival by staying out of sight from predators. In the morning hours, they reabsorb a portion of their web for energy purposes only to move it and reconstruct it all the following evening. That explained her sudden departure and told me I was lucky to catch this scene in broad daylight. The zigzag pattern in the center is called a stabilmentum. It is the most visible part of the web and may serve as a protective feature alerting birds of its presence. Most of the time the spiders will avoid this area because it makes them easy prey. Instead, they will hide on one of the silk threads at the web’s periphery and wait. Once a vibration is detected, they move quickly to the center to locate and trap their victim. Perhaps the movement of the gate tricked the spider into thinking her dinner was ready or she was beginning the process of web consumption for relocation. Either way, I was satisfied with my ability to catch such a spectacular sight.

I retrieved the picture on my phone and passed it to my daughters in the backseat. Not sure what reaction to expect from them, I pointed to the spot where the spider had previously been. To my surprise, I heard "wow" and "that's cool" rather than "eeek" and "ewww." They even zoomed in and examined her 8 long legs up-close. I reiterated that she was not a threat to them and only to other bugs adding that she is even considered an asset to most gardeners by keeping the pest population in check. They asked me to show them exactly where she had been, and I happily obliged. We all scanned the area again but came to the same conclusion. That photograph was the only remaining proof she had been there. It was a spontaneously captured moment by an amateur photographer with an outdated smartphone. My perfectly timed passing allowed me to observe and preserve an un-expecting subject in her natural habitat. No elaborate studio or lighting adjustment was necessary and the original image remains unaltered. It was profound enough to change the opinions of two little girls and remains one of my favorite nature prints. I am reminded there are small wonders that occur every day, one’s I most likely overlook. Prospects in photojournalism seem to be the big and loud ones. However, this quiet scene that caused a busy mom to slow down and appreciate the magic in life's everyday details might be just as remarkable.