Along Came A Spider...

Last October I went to Maumee Bay State Park in Oregon, Ohio to try out my Transit Camper van.  My first morning at the campground Mitzi and I took a walk down a nearby service drive.

 I saw a sulfur butterfly float slowly in front of me - I watched to see if would land and then take a picture but instead of landing, I saw it thrashing around in the weeds next to the road.  I went over to take a closer look and saw that the butterfly was tangled up in a spider's web and the spider already had its legs around the  butterfly ready to do what spiders do to unsuspecting insects - "suck the blood". 

This immediately brought to mind, "Along came a spider, who sat down beside her..." but in this case, the butterfly flew in to sit beside the spider - bad luck for the butterfly. I began taking pictures from every angle but was hampered by the wind which caused the tall stalks of  the weeds holding the large web to be in constant movement. Many of my photos ended up blurry but I did end up with some dandies. I especially like the picture of the silk visible as it came out of the spinnerets.

I didn't see the silk coming out in real time but instead first noticed it when I had my pictures downloaded to my Picasa - pretty amazing.  This whole event was a nature lover's dream.  I went back to the web four times and was able to capture the whole process from the beginning when the butterfly was first caught in the web till the end of the day when all that was left was the empty shell and then disappeared. The first time I left the area, I made an arrow with leaves and a stick and it pointed toward the web area. When I went back, the grass had been mowed and no more arrow.  Fortunately, I made a path in the weeds around the web when I took my first pictures and because of that, I found it.  The spider stood on-guard above it's prey all day - head down about an inch above it.  By morning of the next day the spider was again on the butterfly, possibly eating a little left-over butterfly "soup".

I went over for one last visit that afternoon and found that the spider had repaired the web - added a zig-zag pattern and the remnants of the butterfly were gone.

The whole experience had been great for me and the spider but not so much for the butterfly. For many years I've loved finding orb webs in the barn and if I find one and a child is nearby, I tell them it was made by one of Charlotte's grandkids .  The last morning at Maumee, Mitzi and I took a walk and the fields were full of webs covered with dew - beautiful. 

Recently I reread my journal entry and looked through my pictures and then did a little investigating.  The spider was a common garden spider also known as a black and yellow garden spider or simply, yellow garden spider.  It's not harmful to humans and generally if approached the spider will jump off the web and hide in the weeds.  The orb web might be as large as 2 feet in diameter and the zig-zag in the middle may be there to attract insects or possibly to warn away birds that might fly through and destroy the web - this still isn't known.  One thing for sure, this spider is a writer like Charlotte but never going to see "Hi Farm Lady" in its web.  The process of eating insects doesn't involve "sucking the blood" as stated in Charlotte's Web but is really interesting.  You can read an explanation by googling - Charlotte's Web - How Does Charlotte Eat?  - AwesomeStories. I love the part when the spider "literally vomits digestive fluid over the prey".   Great reading.

One Morning In Maine

My first morning in Maine.  My first sunrise.  I waited in anticipation. Gradually I sensed the black of night shifting toward the new light of dawn - and like the title of a song we sing in our church, "Morning Has Broken".
The sky in the east didn't appear promising when I looked out my van window at 5:45 AM on that Thursday in September but I grabbed my coffee and camera and went out to sit on a rocky ledge directly behind my campsite.  This campsite is situated on an entrance to a small inlet in Birch Harbor, Maine.  The ocean pounded the coast about 1/4 mile away where I camped last year but this year I'm in a calm, quiet place  Maybe this was meant to be, I need calm, I need peace.  I need to sink down in quiet  for at least small periods of time during this vacation.
I waited and my waiting was rewarded with a magnificent sunrise.  Slowly the sun rose from the ocean.  The sky changed from soft pale shades of lavender and pink to vibrant, almost overwhelming shades of purple, orange, pink and yellow.
I ran cautiously over the rocks trying to capture it all with my camera.  I wanted to preserve it and savor it for years to come.  What I saw in those moments were gifts. They were additions to my basket of treasured Maine memories. The rocks in front of me led to the water which was lit by a path of gleaming sunlight  A loon played in that path - he would sit, then dive and then sit again.  The path of light, beyond the loon, bounced off a point of land - land with rocks and tall, broad, stately jack pines.  Lobster boats crossed back and forth across the path - they would stop, check a trap and then move on.  The path led out past another finger of land and then to that amazing ball of fire, the rising sun.
I realized that, as I sat absorbed in all the splendor of this sunrise, another natural phenomenon was taking place.  The sea was also beginning to rise.  The tide was coming in - coming in with grace and with a visible determination and strength.  The sea climbed the rocks toward my toes.  The seagulls called, the crows yelled, the loons sang and the water quietly began to cover the huge granite ledge that was my vantage point.
I could see the homes that are a part of Birch Harbor.  I could see the seaweed swaying as it was moved by the gentle waves - seaweed that would soon be invisible - hidden by the slow movement of the rising sea.
The tides have intrigued me during my visits to Maine and watching this tide come in and watching this sunrise and watching all that was before me belonging to this coastal environment - I sat in awe, amazement and peace.     Written in Birch Harbor, Maine 2007