Twas another buggy day. I’d had a brown orb weaver camped out across my front windows stretching from the porch post to the Japanese maple. It did not keep its web as neat and tight as Bernadette did nor did it exude her confidence. It really only seemed to be out in the evenings and would scurry into a curled up maple leaf whenever I opened the front door or approached for pictures. It took caution and quiet not to panic it.It was there for ages and then gone. Deceased or moved on I thought. However much like Bernadette did, it was just relocating. I opened my front door early one morning intent on putting things in order to drive off to MomBert’s and almost walked through a new web. Puzzlement and a high pitched scream saved me from having a large orb weaver stuck to my midsection.
It had not spared an inch, literally using the entire doorway as a frame for a new web. The door looks wet because I tried to “mist” the web strands in an attempt to photograph its enormity. No luck. While this seemed like excellent home security, I did not think that the cat sitter needed to deal with it. I gently broomed down the web and deposited the spider in the nearby hostas.
Part two of a buggy day happened later at MomBert’s. This summer she had a absolute herd of monarch caterpillars nom nomming her milkweed. They were also incredibly cooperative caterpillars in that they all created their chrysalises in blatantly obvious spots: the side of her house, in between fence posts, and off of railings.
Unfortunately, not all survived the process. The monarch chrysalis darkens and becomes solidly black before the butterfly emerges however turning black and staying that way is an indicator that the butterfly died. One chrysalis on the side of the house was definitely a goner as it had been there for some time and we could see a crack in it.
My nephew and I were both curious about the insides of the chrysalis. Instead of smashing our way in, we got two pairs of tweezers and the trusty magnifying glass.
There may have been the suggestions of a leg or antennae, but nothing solid when we got it open. In a very unscientific way, I can testify that the inside of a dead chrysalis smells like really stinky feet and lettuce that has liquefied in the salad container.