A Spider and the Flies

Not long ago, I noticed - a larger than I would have liked - spider crawl out of the corner of the windowsill in the laundry room. Before we met, I noticed its web, irregular and messy looking, not the beautiful concentric circles one tends to think of when picturing a spider web.

This one is three-dimensional, not single-strand flat, and built for capture. It’s the unmade bed of spiderwebs but created that way on purpose to cover a lot of ground. I’ve watched the web grow in size and reach, taking over the space and then one day the architect crawled out, right above the dryer I was emptying.

I jumped back with a gasp as the spider scurried away, disappearing into the corner of the window. 

Normally, when I find a spider inside the house, I capture it in a cup and take it outside, but this was not a spider on a wall kind of situation that was easy to cover with a glass. Living in the crevices of the windowsill combined with a messy cobweb would make capture hard.  

I left it alone and walked out of the room. I figured it was content catching flies which are in ample supply considering that the litter box sits directly under the windowsill. On lucky days, when I don’t keep up with the litter, a fly or two will circle the area and the unlucky ones land in the web.

I looked up the spider online and learned it is in the “widow” family as I had suspected, but not one that is harmful to humans. And by its markings it is likely a little lady. They can live up to a year, though often their demise is in the fall.

As the web continued to get bigger, I wondered, what happens when flies are not in abundance? During cooler months when there are fewer flies, might the spider starve and die? I learned they can starve, but since they stay put in their webs not burning a lot of calories, weeks can go by without a meal as they wait it out. Not only do they catch flies, any critter that flies into the web may become a meal.

I wondered if she was aware of me? Apparently since most spiders have poor eyesight she observes me as light, shadows, and vibrations. Since I never do anything but walk past the window, clean the litter and do the laundry, she has apparently sensed that I am not a threat and no longer scurries away into the sill when I enter the room. I guess that makes us friends.  

Normally I am afraid of spiders, but this cohabiting is having a desensitizing effect on me. She’s found herself a safe place and is doing a great job catching flies and mosquitoes, too, I’ve noticed.

I’m good with this. She can stay put. The flies continue to disappear and now I find myself closing the door to the laundry room to a crack, so the flies stay in.

So much for being afraid of spiders. I am seeing firsthand how familiarity can desensitize, and as far as I know? She didn’t choose to have eight legs and look scary. She is just living her life, like me.