Member-only story
Ode To A Spider
She never really had a chance. I’ve been fighting the bees who move into the cracks of my ancient house every summer, so I was carrying bug spray around and I was in killing mode.
I sprayed first and asked questions later.
I cry a lot. In fact, I cry almost every day. I’m like Holly Hunter in Broadcast News.
I cry because I’m lonely. I cry because I’m exhausted. I cry because the life I knew is gone. Hershey has gray in her black, seal-like coat and I pet her and cry.
And now I’m crying over a spider.
She was minding her own business, the spider, hanging out with her totally normal, golf ball-sized egg sac, and I, predictably, FREAKED OUT and sprayed her with bug spray.
I seriously considered getting a lighter and making a homemade flamethrower. This is something I would absolutely do.
But the spray did its job. The end was not pretty.
And then I Googled “spider with yellow markings Ohio” and discovered that I had brutally killed a harmless, yet vital part of the ecosystem.
And a mother, at that.
She was pretty, as spiders go. But Black Widows are pretty too. Her size was what got me. These things can grow to over an inch in length, which is small for an elephant…
