Stepping Up For Arachnids

When I became a mother, I also became a nurse, a teacher, a psychologist, a handmaiden, an idiot, and a lover of all things creepy. I was a secret-keeper, housekeeper, gogga-keeper, gatekeeper, and promise-keeper too.   I became fearless in defending my children, but I have never overcome my fear of snakes.  Ophidiophobia, it's called—a fear of snakes.

It’s easy for me to understand that some people are arachnophobic —people with a normal fear of spiders—who often have a pathological fear of tiny, furry insects.  My 6’3” daughter is one of those.   But I get it, and she has my sympathies.  If it’s in my power to prevent her from having a panic attack at the sight of a spider, I’ll do so.   This has meant that I’ve climbed onto tables, then chairs, or ladders to reach the offenders, taking them out of her way safely into the garden.

Large rain spiders aren’t uncommon in our neck of the woods, especially when it’s raining.  This morning one was staring at me when I opened my eyes.   I slipped a sheet of paper beneath her, covered her with a very large bell jar, and had my subject for today up close and personal.

I used my macro lens at a large aperture to capture these pictures; I wanted to highlight her intricate details and beauty.  These are not scientific photographs; they’re “art”, and I enjoyed making them.  I used my hand as a measure of her size.  I tried using my tripod, but she was too fast, which made focusing very difficult.  I hope you can see her excreting her web; I found that fascinating.

Please know that she was not hurt or in any danger and was taken to a safe place (our patio) straight after the shoot.  She is currently living on the wall, eating what remains of the mosquitoes and other bugs who dare enter our bedroom, showing respect for her role in nature.

P.S I know it's no use mentioning this, but she is harmless.