There's two orb weaver spiders outside. I met the first one a couple nights ago, it had perched itself between the pillar and the siding of the porch. A safe place to stay during the storm and a good vantage point to look for a home. As I was chatting with my grandmother about the pink desert sunset that night I accidentally brushed it's prickly exoskeleton with my hand, I frightened the spider but it didn't bite me. I hadn't seen the camouflaged killer as it's designed to blend into the environment it lives in. It would seem after a couple nights it decided to call that spot its home, there's a light nearby and when it's on it attracts the spiders prey. I went outside to admire the cooling climate and the bright summer moon and to check on how he was doing, in the moonlight I could see his nearly invisible glistening web that he had made. He laid waiting in the center of it, he needed to feed, after a long journey and wait. As I walked along the porch I noticed another spider, seemingly dangling in the air. With my curiosity piqued and deciding to take it upon myself to assist the other hungry resident I turned on the porch light to get a closer look. Sure enough the second one was also an orb weaver, what a rare sight, not just one but two orb weavers within close proximity.
The first orb weaver lay waiting, patiently, it's fangs now glistening with venom almost as if it can sense that it's about to get a meal. Curious but patient I decide to check on the other orb weaver. It wasn't just dangling in the air, it was actually building its web. I watched in awe as it meticulously and precariously constructs it's death trap. Nearly invisible to even my human eyes, a tiny moth gets caught by one of the sticky threads. Too little to make a meal for the spider or to escape it awaits starvation. Hanging on by it's front six legs it climbs and pulls web towards itself, with it's rear two legs pulling silk from it's abdomen pausing and then carefully and smoothly attaching line after line; I noted the unique noise that the reeling twine made and how it was either oblivious or apathetic to it's minuscule victim. You see, each web is like a finger print, totally one of a kind. I returned to the first spider, and to my surprise it would seem that a large insect had flown through and blown away part of the spiders webbing. Things didn't look good for the hungry hunter, but still it laid waiting at the sturdy core of it's web, ready to strike; hanging just barely on it's web, it could fall far at any moment. So I stayed to see, if the spider would repair it's web or plunge to it's morose death.
But right before my very eyes, a winged ant flew into the bottom of the web and became snared. With shocking speeds the spider pounced on it in an instant. Hanging on by only three legs, it used its other limbs to smother the flailing victim. And immediately punched it's hypodermic mandibles through the thick shell of the unfortunate insect. It's innards now decomposing and oozing all over the killers glowering face, it struggled pointlessly, it's fate was utterly sealed. After it fully devoured it's meal, first turning into nothing but a shriveled husk and then consuming even that. It hastily rappelled its way back to the same spot I first saw it a couple nights ago, keeping one strand tied to itself, incase it falls while resting or another weakling find itself entrapped, the spider would be able to feel the vibrations and swoop in for an encore...a two course meal. But it rests motionlessly, soon to build a new web with the remains of the old one. Never to be identically replicated.
I went back to the second spider, inspired and humbled by how nature had already mastered machines arrogantly perceived to be designed by man. I respectfully watched it toil away tirelessly at it's precise measurements and it didn't mind despite my observant eyes. It knows that it needs a web, without a web it cannot hunt, without a web it cannot eat, without a web it cannot survive. These spiders are not just web weavers, they are artisans, that rival any human master craftsman. The web is designed to fit the needs of the spider, the angle, the location. It must be hard to detect, but durable and easy to traverse. These spiders live and die by their webs. They naturally do as orb weavers have done for thousands of years, instinctively. Any variations so minuet, so difficult to perceive. This is nature, this is the gradual nature of evolution. This is how these expert predators have survived for so long in a harsh environment.
Now it's web is complete, it lays and waits for a meal.
Here's a description that didn't make it into this post.
They hang motionlessly, these looming shades wait to consume helpless prey, aloof of their stealthy demeanor. But instantly terrified should they get restrained in the silky pits of despair, soon to be trounced by their predator.
The natural killing machine that is designed to trump them in every conceivable way.
Edit: I went outside after typing this up to see how things had progressed. I saw a beetle marching across the ground, when a camel spider "not actually a spider, technically a solifugid as it has ten limbs not eight" ran right up to him, hissed, bitch slapped him, knocked the beetle the fuck out, crushed his head with his powerful jaws and then after looking at me for a few seconds ran off in serpentine patterns with the corpse!
Holy shit what a crazy day! I have the utmost respect for my spirit animal.