Angelkeep’s writer’s first remembered experience of associating spiders with Halloween came from a prank built by Dad.
His Sunday School class met at our farm home for a pot-luck party. (Pot-luck was a pre-Covid sensation.) He pushed our best living room overstuffed chair into a corner. To surprise whoever sat there a large creepy rubber spider had been obtained. In the ceiling directly above the chair, Dad placed an eye screw and another one across the room. A thin thread from which the spider dangled was strung through the eyelets to allow the spider to be suddenly lowered from the ceiling anytime someone sat in the chair.
Spiders appeared pretty creepy until life at Angelkeep began. Suddenly the many varieties became intriguing. Some achieve the evaluation of beautiful. Of course all indoor spiders remain as undesirables and, if caught, get sent on a water voyage with a flush.
Many a spider variety had previously been identified and featured as a topic of the day for Angelkeep Journals. Because so many variations exist, a new one could be focused on weekly for decades. There are those who frown on spiders, don’t want to see them, don’t want to hear about them, and wonder why Noah saved so many pairs on his ark.
One unusual fat black spider of Angelkeep had been shared in this column long ago. The spooky spider bungee jumped off the electric meter in a three-foot free-fall drop. It stopped abruptly by its own single strand of web. It climbed up the thread and repeated the leap of death. It continued over and over, not spinning new webs, but simply jumping for joy. Climb. Jump. Climb. Jump. Like an amusement park.
Recently Angelkeep digitally captured an even stranger unknown spider. What better time to focus on a weird ghost-white spider than in a series of columns titled “The Goblins are Coming.” To make this spider even more Halloween-appropriate, the fat round body held indentations that actually produced what appeared to be the face of a white-faced mime. It contained small red streaks at the side which could be misconstrued as blood. Or perhaps call it a bloodied skull. A zombie mask.
Now that’s a Halloween costume for the morbidly-inclined.
The body, head, and legs of this spider were as white as last week’s full moon. It appeared to glow even brighter by first spotting it on the dark blue violet edge of a morning glory. It glowed, just like the center of the bloom. Spooky.
Research introduced knowledge that this flower crab spider with its globular abdomen, if a female, could change their color to match surroundings but often appeared white. Males remained ghostly white.
Another spooky fact: They don’t spin a web to trap insects to eat. They ambush prey. They might wait by hiding on the back side of a petal until a flower’s pollinator arrived. Bam! Leap! Door Dash. Lunch served.
The primary namesake factor for identification of flower crab spider is the two pairs of front-most legs sticking straight out, perpendicular to the body. Their length is four times the length of the other four hind legs. As a result, the entire body with legs appear almost exactly like a crab. Angelkeep spotted a female a bit over a quarter of an inch long. Males grow to only half that size.
Now large king crab legs make some mighty fine eats. This spider’s legs are too small to dine on. The spider’s not dangerous. It’s so small it can’t bite human or mammal flesh. But an insect landing on a flower can be attacked and subdued even if the bee, fly, or bug is four times the size of the flower crab spider.
Angelkeep would not say “no” to a handful of white spider gummie candies dropped into its trick-or-treat bag.
Mayhap this writer could mix stringy crab, spaghetti bits, slivered red pimentos, and mayo into crab salad to treat Gwen for tomorrow’s anniversary supper. If named “Crab Spider Salad,” it might highlight our pre-Halloween, wedding anniversary meal.
Happy Anniversary, “G.” Love ya, foreverly (a Gwen-coined word inscribed inside one man’s wedding ring.)
Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”
