The Web of Life

photo courtesy of Spencer Greet

September 25, 2008

I sit here at my computer in the den, and watch a spider spin a web in the window facing east.

This spider and I are old friends. Last year I watched her, or her mother, spin a web in the same location, covering the outside of the window with her lacy handiwork.

Spiders are classified in the natural world as arachnids. The name comes from Arachne, a mortal woman from Greek mythology who challenged the Goddess Athena to a weaving contest. Arachne may have been a good weaver, but she must have lacked common sense. She won the contest, and Athena, in a fit of pique, turned her into a spider.

Perhaps the spider in my window is one of her descendants.

It is possible that the ancient human art of weaving, which dates back to about 5,000 BCE, originated in the imitation of the spider's activities.

As a child, I was terrified of spiders; arachnophobia is one of the most common phobias, and frequent lengthy visits to my grandparents, who lived in the woods, gave me plenty of fodder for my overactive imagination. This frequently proved to be a source of great entertainment for my older brother Jim, who feared nothing, as is the wont of older brothers.

As I have matured, however, I have come to see these creatures as much more benign. Although they are predators, they do not prey on humans, although just about anything will bite if cornered. They kill, and consume, other insects, some of which are unpleasant and can spread disease, and some of which are innocent and just unlucky. Spiders are a part of the vast network of entities on the planet who interconnect in many ways; they help to balance the pest population.

The spider in my window is a garden spider. It is an orb spinner, creating a roughly circular piece of functional artwork close to a foot in diameter. It is one of the many wonders of the natural world that an insect so small could create something that is not only beautiful, but surprisingly strong, out of the materials found in its own body. There is an intrinsic symmetry to a spiderweb, and in a certain light, it shimmers as if made of diamonds.

Halloween is coming in about a month, and my house will be decorated in fine fashion. We work together, the spider and I; she weaves her web of diamonds, while I spin a yarn about spiders, connected to her by unseen threads of life.