Spidering

Craig and I went spidering today. We took a guided walk through the Prairie Creek Preserve led by local spidermen Jon Reiskind and Mark Stowe.

Jon Reiskind was for many years chair of our county Democratic Party, and the handful of people on the tour that I recognized ranged from left-leaning to left-flat-out-fallen-down. Somebody should study this. Is arachnophilia a marker for progressive political views? Or is it only tree-hugging liberals that will happily spend a Saturday morning tromping through mosquito infested woods looking for spider webs? Maybe Republicans do their spidering online with their smart phones while waiting for stock prices to update.

I have always respected spiders. I will not kill one, and I let them live in my house at the corners of the ceilings, catching anything that flies their way. On the other hand, I am not a big fan of fangs and hairy legs. That tension makes spidering more of an adventure than, say, going birding or painting the dining room. It makes me feel vaguely virtuous.

Spiders are among the most ancient of creatures. The first true spiders have been identified in Carboniferous rocks more than 300 million years old and apparently they were quite similar to the most primitive spider order today. Jon told us rather sadly that no spider webs have survived in the fossil record. All spiders have 8 legs and abdominal spinnerets for silk-making. Most have 8 eyes although a few species have 6 eyes. Spider blood is pale blue because oxygen is bound to copper rather than iron, and they use hydraulic pressure to extend their legs.

The first thing Mark showed us was the tube of a purse web spider. The female makes a tube out of silk and disguises it with bits of leaf and mold so it looks just like a tendril or bit of vine. The spider stays inside the tube and waits for her prey to alight on the outside. Then she stabs it with her fangs and pulls it into the tube for dinner. Mark said once we recognized one tube, we'd be surprised how often we'd see them all around us. I haven't stopped staring at the bases of trees since.

The wolf spider is one of my favorites. They do not build webs but hunt on the ground. When my kids were young we used to go outside at night and shine flashlights across the grass. The spiders' eyes reflect the light, and the lawn lights up with hundreds of glowing pin-points. The wolf spider is the official state spider of South Carolina, the only state to have an official state spider.

The most common spider in these parts is the golden orb weaver, called banana spiders in Florida for reasons I have never understood. There are a godzillion golden orb weavers and no banana plants in Florida that I know of. They build beautiful yellow webs and will eat and reweave half of their webs every night. When you look at a web there is always a neater and a rattier half.

The spiney spider, also called they spineybacked orb weaver, is also common. These are compact little guys that are white with black spots and have either black or red spikes on their backs. We have a spiney spider right by our front porch. In fact, we have all the spiders that we saw at the Preserve right here; perhaps the next spider tour should be at Itchy Dog Farm.

There is, however, something to be said for the field trip. Prairie Creek Preserve, managed by the Alachua Conservation Trust, is home to the Prairie Creek Conservation Cemetery, a green burial ground. Our group was supposed to meet at a trailhead some distance from the cemetery but we missed the sign and ended up in the cemetery itself. The cemetery is maintained as conservation land and any proceeds from the burials go to purchasing and conserving more land. Nothing but a message board marks the cemetery grounds; there are no fences or paths or headstones, just woods and grassland. Looking for more purse web spiders, I almost literally stumbled upon a grave. It was new enough to still be mounded and covered on top with fresh pine needles. Someone had lovingly planted native pinecone ginger around the perimeter. A marker about the size of a silver dollar recorded the occupant's name. I have up until now been enthusiastic about green burial, but I thought this grave seemed lonely and vulnerable out there in the woods with the spiders and bugs. Craig, who does not much think about burial, said it looked quiet and peaceful. We will go back there sometime soon to bird.

(I did not take these photos, I got them off the Web.)