Spiders, like us
It was with interest that I listened to BBC Radio 4 The Infinite Monkey Cage that discussed animal emotions, how to study them and how to extrapolate the information around animal responses. The difficulty, to me, in such discussions is the assumption that we humans, are blessed with superior consciousness and understanding. We have evolved language, science and story telling that separates us from lesser animals. My observations in the garden and countryside is that if we step aside from this mindset, sit quietly and try to understand that nature is not there for us, but is something that we are part of, our views may be radically changed.
Keeping bees has been eye-opening. I am observing a detailed miniature world peopled by creatures that ‘seem’ to be reacting in a very different way to us mammals and yet…I hope you enjoy these spidery stories that have been taken from life, starting with The Spider In The Bath
The harvestman spider in the bath originally lodged in the shower - where it would join me to take sips of water from the surrounding tiles. I wasn’t thrilled by this tiny creature sharing my space but it was doing no harm and I let it be. One morning, however, I found the delicate arachnid (that had clearly been hunting flies) flailing about in our white enamel bath. Now I am not great about picking up spiders and this one had a large spread of legs so I am happy to share my tip for no-kill emergency spider removal. Thusly:
Unroll several sheets of toilet paper and drape over the bath edge. Encourage spider onto lower sheet, raise the whole and release spider out of window or onto floor.
The little harvestman was deeply alarmed by this mysterious white form above its head and we had a five minute struggle before it could be persuaded onto the paper. Success at last! I put the spider near the shower tray where it swiftly disappeared from sight. Thinking no more about it I was surprised, a few days later, to find the spider once more in the bath. Sigh - reach for toilet paper and prepare for struggle. BUT NO, dear reader. This time the creature rushed at once to the paper and jumped on with no hesitation. Once again, my mini crane lifted it up and swung it to safety where it leapt off and made its way home. If only dogs could be trained so swiftly with one lesson I found myself thinking.
The following is from my upcoming short story Nature Notes. This was taken from life from a garden spider’s experience of robbery with violence.
Hazel sat for some moments on the church doorsteps studying a small spider that had caught a large fly in its web. The tiny creature approached its enormous prey and ran a line of silk onto its body, but still the fly thrashed and refused its fate. Several times the spider tried in vain to pierce its body. Yet the fly strutted across the web, entangled but blazing with life. The spider retreated. It’s like a tiny fisherman observed Hazel. It’s playing out its line waiting for its fish to tire. She watched with the spider on the side-lines, the fly humming, its eyes huge. We are all links, thought Hazel. in a silver chain to the sun and liquid blue sky. Abruptly, from an overhanging branch a new, far larger spider swung down onto the web. It bit into the throbbing fly and stilled it. Expertly the interloper wrapped in it silk and bore it away into the green grasses. The little spider fisherman remained alongside; its forelegs raised in appalled horror seemingly in appeal to a justice that would not come.
Since moving to Enchanted England twenty years ago, I have lived alongside a variety of animals, hens, cockerels, rabbits, dogs and now bees. My finding is (The infinite monkey cage - take note) is that left to their own natural devices all of them live rich, emotional and intelligently thought out lives.