Spider

Yesterday, I carried out my usual early morning routine of going downstairs, starting my coffee, turning off the alarm, and then opening the side yard door for the dogs to run to the Artificial Grass Pet Pee Mat. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a giant spider smack in the middle of her intricate web. Since the dogs are short, they did not disturb the web. I observed the spider, from a fair distance, in awe. She did not move. I did not want to disturb her, so when the dogs returned inside, I simply shut the door. Despite the door closing only a few inches from her body, she still did not move. I raised my blinds so I could continue to observe this spider whenever I walked by to reheat my coffee.

This spider remained in her location throughout the day. I left my house and did not return until later in the evening; She was still there. I marveled at her delicate, intricate web. Once again, I let the dogs run under the web to their designated relief area and while I waited, I observed closer than before. This time, she twitched and moved about the web although I did not touch it nor did I see any flying victims that might have caused a vibration. I was happy that this spider was not a jumping spider, because the thought of it jumping to my face did occur. I closed the door, and went to bed.

This morning, I was eager to see the spider that I did not physically disturb. She was gone and every sinew of the web disappeared. I wonder if my close observation triggered her instincts to be weary of her chosen location? But if she was able to detect my closeness, and be scared, why couldn’t she sense that I was not going to hurt her? Or perhaps it had nothing to do with me at all, and she simply did not catch enough victims to satisfy her appetite? Regardless, the twenty-four hour visitor was a welcome diversion.