The night belongs to spiders

Hi everyone,

Sitting outside late last night beside the water. A full moon worked its way through the hackberry overhead.20150729_224533_resized

To our left a busy spider trapped a small moth and dashed across its web to claim its trophy.20150729_224116_resized

Five feet away a second magnificent web was the stage for the nimble dance of another spider with its midnight snack.20150729_223954_resized

I didn’t look around for more webs, but I knew they were there. Warm night, plenty of moths, great for hunting, if you’re a spider.


8 comments on “The night belongs to spiders

  1. Webbery Thoughts

    If you’re a spider
    with a web
    lots of midnight snacks

    A head, a wing,
    A mothy thorax,
    Clean your web
    with spider

    ©2015 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

  2. I just spent an entire morning cleaning out the millions of (mostly cellar spider) webs, new and old in our garage and if I never see a spider again, it will be too soon. I could never be an entomologist.

  3. On the subject of sadism, I couldn’t resist sending this one


    The Black Widow spider, once the male’s fertilised her,
    kills him and eats him for tea.
    This eight legged animal’s naught but a cannibal;
    not very nice you’ll agree.
    But the male isn’t bright not to put up a fight;
    you’d think it’s a thing he expects.
    Before having nooky there’s surely a book he
    could read about having safe sex,
    Like, “When it’s all over don’t just roll over
    and fall asleep by her side,
    But make an excuse to prise yourself loose
    and go and find somewhere to hide.”
    But the thing that’s sad is the male spider’s dad
    never has a pre-nuptial chat
    All about married life with a Black Widow wife
    and the hazards inherent in that.
    The reason why is not that he’s shy
    or putting it off until later
    It’s simply, young man, before your life began,
    he’d already been eaten by Mater

    © Bryn Strudwick

    • And from across the pond we receive this impassioned plea on behalf of husbands whose mates tear off their heads. I’m certain that Bryn is only talking about spiders. Just so you know, Bryn was thoughtful enough to ask in advance if he could post this poem. It has just a touch of the old “you know what I mean, you know what I mean?” in it but I like the message and think he treats it with proper tongue in cheek respect. Thank you, Bryn.

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