creepy crawly posty post
Sep. 19th, 2004 12:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spatchIf you're ever so slightly arachnophobic then you may not want to glance upwards at the light fixtures when walking on the platform of the Wellington T stop. The entire station is home to a veritable city of big spiders growing fat on the late summer gnats which infest the area. The little tram that runs between the station and the parking garage is also covered on the outside with them big webspinners, who must delight in having their web fly into the gnats instead of the other way around.
I had a creepy good time Friday night watching the spiders at work; there's at least three or four big-bellied critters in each working light alcove. I'm a reformed arachnophobe; I used to hate all forms of spiders but have steadily grown to enjoy what they do. Being so close to these ones without the safety of glass or even big cans of Raid was both thrilling and unnerving. I laughed at a little fly buzzing around my head. I told it that it was not long for this world but it did not heed my warnings and instead flew up towards the light and into the web of the biggest spider, which then savagely plucked the longitudinal strands of its web, one by one, to figure out which section had ensnared the prisoner. Then it suddenly dropped a few inches off the web and swung up towards the insect's location, carefully embracing it with quickly wibbling legs (these spiders are the kinds with obscenely bulbous bodies and thin, spindly legs. I don't know which legs are worse on spiders, the thin spindly kind or the fat hairy kind. Both can be equally creepy.)
Then the spider dropped down several inches again, coming perilously close to the top of my head and then seemed to wind itself up on its own web strand. I didn't see its little legs moving as it just zoomed back up to the center of the web. There it deposited the wrapped fly with the others and resumed skulking, perfectly poised in the center of the web. (The train came and I went in and sat down and itched phantom itches all over my crawling skin like crazy. It was odd.)
The best part though is getting other people to look up at the webs. Nobody realizes all the spiders up in there because, well, nobody ever looks up at the lights. But if you see someone looking up, you naturally look up, too, and -- oh my gosh there they are. Not everybody shared the grinning enthusiasm I had for the display of nature, though. Go fig.
I had a creepy good time Friday night watching the spiders at work; there's at least three or four big-bellied critters in each working light alcove. I'm a reformed arachnophobe; I used to hate all forms of spiders but have steadily grown to enjoy what they do. Being so close to these ones without the safety of glass or even big cans of Raid was both thrilling and unnerving. I laughed at a little fly buzzing around my head. I told it that it was not long for this world but it did not heed my warnings and instead flew up towards the light and into the web of the biggest spider, which then savagely plucked the longitudinal strands of its web, one by one, to figure out which section had ensnared the prisoner. Then it suddenly dropped a few inches off the web and swung up towards the insect's location, carefully embracing it with quickly wibbling legs (these spiders are the kinds with obscenely bulbous bodies and thin, spindly legs. I don't know which legs are worse on spiders, the thin spindly kind or the fat hairy kind. Both can be equally creepy.)
Then the spider dropped down several inches again, coming perilously close to the top of my head and then seemed to wind itself up on its own web strand. I didn't see its little legs moving as it just zoomed back up to the center of the web. There it deposited the wrapped fly with the others and resumed skulking, perfectly poised in the center of the web. (The train came and I went in and sat down and itched phantom itches all over my crawling skin like crazy. It was odd.)
The best part though is getting other people to look up at the webs. Nobody realizes all the spiders up in there because, well, nobody ever looks up at the lights. But if you see someone looking up, you naturally look up, too, and -- oh my gosh there they are. Not everybody shared the grinning enthusiasm I had for the display of nature, though. Go fig.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
bugs bug me
Date: 2004-09-18 11:18 pm (UTC)Tonight @ a restaurant, there was a little fruit flies buzzing around me, which was annoying, but when I looked at the wall and kept seeing more of them [up to five counting the one in motion] I had to tell myself not to look and to pretend they weren't there to be able to enjoy my dinner.
Spiders are way more interesting than most, because as you said, they do things, and I'm not usually bothered by them. But seeing a few at a time and knowing there were the same number in each light fixture would probably creep me out.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-18 11:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-19 09:01 am (UTC)I try to explain to him that the proliferation of bugs in the NE means that none of them have had to evolve means of killing mammals for their survival. So though there are more, I don't mind them as much because I don't fear for my life when they are around.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-19 09:13 am (UTC)Of course, if it had been alive, it would have flapped its rustley paper wings near my ear and I would have freaked out and doen the dance of "OMG there's a bug near my ear."
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-19 10:12 am (UTC)2) Big/hairy beats terrah level of thin/spindly 9x out of 10. Yow.
Re: bugs bug me
Date: 2004-09-19 10:59 am (UTC)The restaurant has big windows that overlook the lake, and each window had been taken over -- on the outside -- by a giant spider with a giant web. Each window had its own web. It was very hard to enjoy your pizza without glancing up at the spiders lurking above, but we did our best.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-19 11:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-19 02:38 pm (UTC)You have those?
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-19 04:57 pm (UTC)Well that's just fabulous innit
Date: 2004-09-20 06:28 am (UTC)Bleeeeaaaahhh.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-20 07:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-20 07:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-20 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-21 05:02 am (UTC)Our house gets spiders and centipedes that bite. They are in fact aggressive toward humans. They get squashed. Sorry if that hurts you. The bites would hurt too.
Bye now!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-21 03:44 pm (UTC)I've never seen an insect be aggresive towards a human. Not counting mosquitoes (who are excused, in my book, since they are only trying to feed their babies). Well, I guess that's different then, isn't it? Humble appologies. The rest of you still get thwocked! Mwah-Ha-Ha!
ya know...
Date: 2004-09-22 04:13 am (UTC)I'm not the giant anti-bug monster, but it's important to think the "all things are pretty and cannot hurt me or others" thing through before, you know, telling people you'd hit them for hitting a bug.
spiders to cool
Date: 2004-10-05 07:23 pm (UTC)