A half-dozen spiders

It seems strange. I'm always on the lookout for spiders, especially because I need to collect some 50 or so spider photos for Arachtober every year. But this year has been unusually spider-free. Checking back, I have 4 photos of spiders for the entire first half of this year. Around home, there are always a few cellar spiders (I carefully dust and vacuum around them), but this year, they've all been tiny; none have grown up to carry eggs, as far as I have seen. And there are a couple of pin-prick spiders (defined as smaller than a pinhead) patrolling the area around my bedside lamp.  And the little jumper that turned up by my desk two weeks ago, and a couple of elusive jumpers in my garden; that's about it.

Where have all the spiders gone?

And then, all at once, they're turning up at my door; even 3 the same morning. Strange. 

Parasteatoda sp., with sowbug.

California Flattened jumping spider,  Platycriptus californicus.

Tiny, unidentified, with her cast-off molt.

Another Parasteatoda sp., with her typically messy web.

She's hung her web across my window. And caught a small crane fly.

Woodlouse spider, Dysdera crocata, just inside my door.

And just now, the spider at my window, caught herself a tiny fly.

Two nights ago, I was parked at a gas station, when a good-sized spider dropped down beside me, hanging from the roof overhead. She almost reached the ground, then quickly climbed her line back up to the roof. Making a web to catch gas station customers? I got away safely, anyhow.

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Me parece algo extraño. Siempre ando buscando arañas, especialmente porque tengo que juntar unas 50 fotos de arañas para participar en Arachtober cada año. Pero este año apenas he visto unas pocas. En la primera mitad del año, apenas he sacado 4 fotos de arañas. Por mi casa, siempre hay algunas arañas fólcidas, (y con mucho cuidado, sacudo y paso la aspiradora sin tocarlas) pero este año, todas han sido miniaturas; ninguna, por lo que he visto, ha llegado a poner huevos. Y hay dos o tres arañitas del tamaño de la punta de un alfiler cerca de mi lámpara de noche. Y hace dos semanas, hubo una araña saltarina al lado de mi escritorio, y vi dos en el jardín. Y eso es todo.

¿A dónde se han ido todas las arañas?

Y  luego, de repente, allí están en mi puerta; hasta 3 en un mismo dia. 

1. Una araña Parasteatoda sp., con una cochinilla.
2. Una araña saltarina, Platycriptus californicus.
3. Una arañita miniatura, con su vieja muda desechada.
4. Otra Parasteatoda sp., con su telaraña desordenada.
5. Esta araña ha construido su telaraña en mi ventana; aquí está comiendo una típula.
6. Dysdera crocata. Estas arañas también comen cochinillas.
7. Y la misma araña de mi ventana, hace unos minutos. Acaba de capturar una mosca pequeña.

Hace dos noches, estaba estacionada en una gasolinera cuando una araña muy grande bajó colgando desde el techo sobre las bombas.  Llegó casi al suelo, luego volvió a trepar rapidamente sobre su seda hasta el techo. ¿Estaría preparando una telaraña para capturar algún cliente de la gasolinera? Yo, por suerte, escapé con la vida.

Morning visitor

Why it's never a good idea to leave dishes in the kitchen sink overnight. Because in the morning, you'll have to chase this guy around and under dirty dishes.

Sowbug hunter, in a clean, dry sink.

I gave him a dishrag to help him climb up the slippery walls, and he showed his appreciation by posing for me.

He's just under 2 inches, toe to toe.

Tegenaria domestica, again. Harmless, except to sowbugs.

And a few more spiders

They're exploding all over! Up in the corners, young cellar spiders hang, leggily. Miniature males, species unknown, prowl the walls looking for fat females. (Wrong place, guys! The girls are just outside the window.)

And at ground level, the big hunting spiders guard the fort against sowbugs and stray cobweb spiders.

A big male, on the leg of a garden chair. (I disturbed his cozy hiding place under my yard waste bag.)

And another, in the house, at the edge of her messy web on the bottom of a Mexican shopping bag.

Look at that web again. In the frass, there's the remains of her last molt, down in the right-hand corner; the leftovers from another spider meal; half a sowbug, all the juices sucked out; and something squarish that I can't identify. A beetle, maybe?

These spiders are difficult to identify. There are three similar species, and the rules for identification have changed. I think these are Eratigena agrestis, but then again ...

Years ago, they were called Tegenaria. Worried about the bad name some of them have, I wrote a post listing some of the differences between the species, here. But since then, they've been re-classified as Eratigena, an interesting name because it is an anagram of the letters of Tegenaria.

From BugGuide, on the Giant House spider, Eratigena duellica:

This spider (like its relatives T. domestica and E. agrestis) was imported from Europe into the ports of the Pacific Northwest. The first known N. American record was from Vancouver Island in 1929. It did not reach Seattle until 1960. 

The greater European house spider (E. duellica) is not dangerous to people. Some people may be intimidated by their size as male legspans can reach 4 inches (100 mm). However, Rod Crawford has never known one to bite a human (though they certainly could if they tried); they are so docile he uses them as hands-on demonstrators for school children. 

The Hobo Spider (E. agrestis) is often confused with this spider. If you are unsure of the exact species, just be mindful of this confusion, and use caution when dealing with the spider. (See E. agrestis for more information about the hobo spider). 

The presence of giant house spiders is a deterrent to the establishment of hobo spiders indoors. It out-competes and displaces the hobo spider indoors and male giant house spiders often kill male hobo spiders (without necessarily eating them)!

So it's still wise to keep my distance from these spiders. Unless I can measure the legs; they look the same as the harmless giant, and are about the same size, except for those long legs. And if E. agrestis bites, it could be a bit of a problem.

This little guy's no problem at all:

High on the wall, out of the hunter's range, a tiny yellow and tan spider, stopping for a rest. It's so far to where the girls are!

Previous tenant

Well, I'm here in Campbell River, half unpacked, sort of settled in. My name is on the lease, but I've met a few long-term residents who disapproved of the extra company. This big guy had laid claim to the hall closet.

He's about an inch and a half long, toe to toe.

I let him be, but installed a light, and went about loading jackets and brooms and odds and ends that don't have a home yet, and by the next morning, he'd gone in search of quieter rooms. Just as well; I didn't really want to find him in the pocket of a jacket one day.

Beauty and the (tiny) beast

(I've been house-sitting for my daughter in Strathcona, dashing back here every couple of days to water the gardens. I'm home again, to stay.  Now I'm sorting photos; this set is from the house in Strathcona.)

On my first inspection tour of the Strathcona house, I noticed a tiny spider in a corner of a high basement window, a favourite spider hangout I've examined before. This one was barely a pair of dots, one larger than the other; I wouldn't attempt to photograph it, not in that awkward position, not with a handy crack to retreat into; these spiders are shy.

But a couple of days later, going down to empty the washer, I saw a fluttering orange thing on the sill, and that tiny spider hovering nearby. I ran back up for the camera. When I got back, the spider had grabbed her prey:

Spider, maybe 2 mm. Moth, up to 5 mm.

For the next couple of minutes, the pair executed an elaborate dance; the spider would dash in to bite the moth, then back off while the moth struggled frantically. When the moth rested, back came the spider, to sink in her fangs, or to attempt to attach strands of sticky web. The moth fought, the spider retreated. Again and again.

One foot is tangled in the web.

Trying to tie up an antenna.

Reinforcing the bonds.

This may be the prettiest moth I have seen in BC; look at the colours! The wings are patterned in orange and tan, with yellow and pink accents; on the bottom, deeper reds outline the underwings.

Moth all tied up, being dragged off to the spider's corner.

I went to attend to the laundry. When I came back, the moth was jammed up against the spider's hole. Of the spider, there was no sign; she was probably deep inside, washing up for dinner.

A couple of days later, the dried husk of the moth lay on the window sill. When I tried to collect it, it crumbled to dust.

UPDATE: Identified by BugGuide as Carcina quercana.

Spider sampler

We've been finding spiders these days, everywhere we go. Some are new to me; others are old friends. Here's an assortment:

One of the ubiquitous cross spiders, Araneus diadematus, outside our door, in his tattered web.

These spiders are often very pretty.

Nieta, my resident American house spider, Parasteatoda tepidariorum. She's getting fat. I expect to see eggs any day now.

A tiny male, hanging out near Nieta's web in hopes of love. Or at least not being eaten before they mate.

Another of  the web builders. Probably Hibana sp.

A very small, fast spider, unidentified. Philodromus dispar. Thanks, BugGuide!

This one's smaller still; 3 mm nose to tail. Round from the top view, flat from the side. Very alert; good eyesight. Unidentified.

Another unidentified spider. Makes skimpy webs along walls, ceilings. This one was far above my head.

Zebra jumping spider, Salticus scenicus.

And a different jumper, on a blackberry leaf in White Rock. I couldn't identify this one. BugGuide has 9000 jumping spiders. I gave up half-way through.

A wolf spider, Arctosa perita, on the sand at Centennial Beach.

A big Tegenaria ran out of a planter box I was carrying. I didn't get a photo; I screamed and tossed the box onto the ground, and the spider escaped. I somehow can't get rid of that reflex, a leftover from ancient trauma. The story is here; Sleeping with tarantulas.

Five dozen babies

Baby spiders, that is. And aren't they cute?

Click on the photo to see them full-size. One has a happy face on his belly.

The babies are the first progeny of "Little Momma", an American house spider, Parasteatoda tepidariorum. She lives in a corner beside my patio door, and has another batch on the way.

Little Momma, with bag of babies and lunch.

She is the granddaughter of Fat Momma, who raised a brood a few feet overhead in 2007. I wrote at length about her then, and want to review a few of the questions raised back then.

Here's the series: Parts I - Spider Watching, II - Fresh laid eggs!, III - Taking Candy from a Baby, IV - We Haz Babies!, V - Baby Pictures, VI - Post-coital bliss, sort of, and finally, Pleased to Meetcha!

Some of the questions I was asking then were, what happens to the males? And, how long does incubation take? Will the egg cases survive over the winter?

• Fat Momma ate at least one of her mates. Little Momma has had three that I have seen. I caught her eating one.
• Fat Momma's first two egg cases and one of another spider took 25, 27 and 33 days. I first saw LM's eggs exactly one month before they hatched. So 31 -32 days.
• And Fat Momma's final egg case hatched the next March. LM's second case is just a week old; it may have to hang around over the winter, too.

I found it interesting that LM hung her egg cases, as did her grandmother, out in the middle of nowhere. But a week ago, when the weather turned cold for a few days, she hauled them both over against a wooden shelf, well protected from the elements, and tied them down there.

The babies are pale cream, with grey dots in varied patterns. In the photo, full-size, two eyes stare straight ahead. The other six are not visible. I expect them to hang around the egg case for about four days, then start wandering; they will be dark and shiny by then. I'll keep close tabs on them, and maybe even get a few portrait shots.

Oh, and "Congratulations, Little Momma! Your babies are beautiful!"

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Merrily, merrily, merrily

... I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

It's open house, here, and nectar is on the menu:

Unidentified bee

There are dozens of these partying in every rhododendron shrub, from dawn to dark. They dash from flower to flower, barely staying for a second in each. Time's a wasting!

A shiny black and blue fly, resting on the moss

A tiny wasp (I think), who came to share our tea break at Tim Horton's.

A common backswimmer, Notonecta undulata.

A puddle across the street is full of these. They lounge at the surface in the sunshine, belly-up, head-down, holding on to the "skin" of the water with their toes.

They are predators, eating other bugs and even small fish (not in this puddle, though). And they are really fast; those back legs make great oars. The front ones are spiny, for grabbing prey, but the back legs and tail are feathery, like bird wings.

This one got flipped over when I moved it. Isn't it pretty?

The bees are not the only diners on my rhododendrons; here's a flower longhorn beetle.

Pidonia scripta

"Where the bee sucks, there suck I." (Shakespeare)

And with so much going on, the spiders are keeping busy. This one is a granddaughter of Fat Momma.

Achearanea tepidariorum, American house spider

One more photo, not a bug. A flower smaller than any of today's bugs; just a small blue dot in the grass.

Tiny but beautiful

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Midnight survey

I was grumbling to Laurie, a couple of days ago, that there are hardly any bugs this year. Except for a plague of tiny biting black flies, he reminded me.

Something is definitely odd, though. Last summer, the evergreens across my lawn were festooned with hundreds of big cross spider webs. (Both the spiders and the webs were big.) This year, I've found fewer than a dozen, all tiny.

Last year, I had to put out crushed eggshells to stop the slugs. This year, the eggshell container is still full.

Last year, I was monitoring Fat Momma and Chica, my American house spiders, chronicling their doings and matings. This year, the final batch of eggs hatched in March, and a couple of tiny males set up their webs. And that was it. No females, no matings, no babies. And no photos.

Last year, my visitors included big brown moths, crane flies, assorted caterpillars, leafhoppers, lemon-yellow lauxaniid flies, bald-faced hornets and granddaddy harvestmen. This year, a moth or two, a pair of crane flies, no caterpillars, a few tiny harvestmen. The only flies so far are those biting black flies. And a few mosquitoes. (I could do without those.)

I am wondering whether that is a normal variation, or whether it is because of the changes in our weather patterns.

Almost a year ago, in September, I went out with a flashlight to see a big cross spider that built his web on our bicycles every night, and found the patio crawling with life. I've looked out at night this year, and rarely saw any more than a few pillbugs.

I decided to do a thorough search; I went out Tuesday night and last night with the lamp on an extension cord, and peered into every corner. With some success.

There were slugs. Several kinds of slugs.

Doesn't it look awfully snake-ish, coiled up? It does to me.

A light-coloured slug, eating something dried and red. Maybe an old earthworm.

A dark-brown slug, climbing the wall with a harvestman for company.

And a couple of kinds of pill bugs:

The ones that make pills.

And the ones that don't.

I thought this one was a pillbug until I saw the photo. Now I don't know what it is.


Besides these, I found an earwig or two, two snails, a tiny leafhopper on the rhododendron, and a couple of earthworms out for an evening stroll. No moths, no caterpillars.

There were a few spiders: the tiny cross spider whose web I broke, and a miniature cream-coloured one that never stopped running.

Fuzzy photo; the spider wasn't co-operative.

And -- and this made me happy! -- a female American house spider, possibly one of Fat Momma's brood. She was setting up shop at the crook of an old boat smokestack that I've had hanging around, and tying her web to the beak of a wooden shorebird beside it. Not a safe location, but I'll try not to disturb it.


There are a few small males in the vicinity; she should have plenty of suitors. I'll keep an eye on her, hoping for photo ops.

I also found several of these beetles. Out there in the semi-dark, they just showed up as brown blobs, so I brought this one inside to have his picture taken.


This is the same as the one that Chica caught last year. He's lucky I brought him in; when I went out in the morning, the new spider* had one of his relatives:

Beetle taco.

So there's life out there. But not nearly as varied or as numerous as last year. I hope it bounces back next year.

One last photo: a pile of stones I will be flipping the 7th of September. With a slug on the turtle.



*I'll have to find her a name. It's awkward to be always writing "the new American house spider".
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