This week, colleagues, friends, acquaintances, and random strangers have expressed concern for my safety when they haven’t been able to immediately locate me in the usual places. Their main concern:
“I was worried the garden spider got you.”
She has not. I am mostly safe although her position seems precarious. I sent my neighbor her photo with my intentions of potentially setting the entire block on fire. His response:
“Let it burn!”
So I feel like with permission and documentation of it, I’m well on my way to collecting flammable materials and building a funeral pyre as close to the spider as possible…which is not very close.
I also sent my neighbor the perspective photo of the spider and the ruler. He had concerns.
“Yeah, now you’re just teaching it math. That can’t be good.” It’s not! Math is never good.
There might be a secret support/intervention group gathering to help me because a friend sent me this link to “distract from giant spider.” I tapped out at 46 seconds. Too weird even for my taste.
The support group was also getting together a drum circle or something to strengthen the storm we had Thursday night. I got a lot of pre-storm well wishes that “Down came the rain /And washed the spider out.”
Friday morning, I took the extra minute before leaving for work to sneak out the back door and cautiously assess the situation. From 10 feet away the web appeared damaged and she was no where in sight, so there was no way I was going to get closer. She could be anywhere!
Much to the cats’ dismay, the backyard was my first stop when I got home. There were too many scenarios.
Worst case: the spider is gone, but gone where??? And where will she reappear?
Best case: Visibly deceased spider on ground, all 8 legs in the air, tiny x’s on eyes.
Reality: The storm just made her mad and she’s coming back bigger, better, stronger, and probably radioactive somehow.
At about five feet from the web, I saw this directly below the web:
It was gasp worthy because at first glance it looked like damp yellow feathers, webbing,and possibly some entrails. Closer examination and some poking with a stick revealed that it was a yellow-green tomato, not one of my beloved goldfinches. It was covered in white fuzzy mold and the alleged “entrails” were a couple of slugs.
Worrying about a dead bird got me closer to the web than needed. The stabilimentum was still intact, but the rest of the web needed some renovations. No spider in sight. No spider in sight until I looked at the fence and found her hanging out conveniently at face height. Convenient for squealing in reaction.
She skittered to the center of the web and we both resumed our positions. I can see her from the back door; she can see me from the web.