WHEELBARROW HORROR!

Let me begin by apologizing to my fellow arachnophobics… Forgive my photographic abruptness. I’m sorry if you’ve just spilled hot coffee in your lap or nearly shorted out your pacemaker. The eight-legged, hairy-limbed beastie gave me a fright, too—especially since I apparently picked it up with one of the chunks of firewood I loaded into the wheelbarrow. Trust me, the adrenaline jolt that hit my system when I looked down and saw the thing baring its fangs a few inches from my gloved hand, wreaked temporary havoc throughout my body—zapping voltage all the way to my DNA. I did not scream. It is unseemly for bulky, grown men to scream upon encountering itsy-bitsy chelicerate arthropods. Even when they’re not so itsy-bitsy. No, I merely stepped back rather hurriedly. That whole-body gesture which possibly resembled a shudder was due to the chill of the shadows. What might have been mistaken for a fit was just this naturalist’s sudden uncontrollable outbreak of intense emotion caused by unexpected delight at having stumbled upon another interesting creature to photograph and write about for my legion of faithful blog readers. I do not advocate nor subscribe to the notion that the only good spider is a dead spider…although this courtesy of allotted life does not extend within the precincts of my cottage walls; inside my house, all creeping, crawling, and otherwise lurking spiders will be summarily dispatched with extreme prejudice. The means of their demise might be flyswatter, hairspray squirt, vacuum cleaner, or 12-gauge…whatever seems appropriate at the time. I will whack, stomp, or blast with glee—and I don’t care if the principal character in Charlotte’s Web was your great-great-grandmother. But, I digress… The arachnid in the wheelbarrow was probably a wolf spider—a member of Lycosidae family. (Know you enemy, I always say.) The family name comes from the Greek for wolf, which describes this species hunting habits—lone, fast-moving predators that often chase their prey down, though some wolf spiders hide and wait for something to come along worth pouncing upon. Wolf spiders are found everywhere—in woods and fields, and among piles of firewood needing to be stacked. Many wolf spiders—perhaps even most—are not large enough to be terrifying except to those who simply can’t contain themselves over anything with eight legs. A few wolf spiders, however, are the stuff of nightmares. This particular wolfie had a body a bit over an inch in length; it’s leg-tip to leg-tip length came close to spanning four inches. From my adrenaline-overdosed perspective, it appeared to be only slightly smaller than a German shepherd. Nevertheless, in the name of good blogging, I dashed inside, grabbed my Nikon, returned and made its portrait. Then I tipped the wheelbarrow over and gently deposited the little horror onto the gravel…and threatened to run over it with my pickup if it even waved one hairy leg in the direction of the cottage. (It’s a big truck and I felt reasonably safe in being able to make good on this threat without damaging my vehicle.) The spider and I parted company. Woodstacking has temporarily ground to a halt…just long enough, you understand, for me to write and post this piece. FEAR WAS NOT INVOLVED! * * * * * [Identity correction: Reader "Deerfriend" has graciously set me straight on the actual species of spider in the photo—it's a brownish-gray fishing spider rather than a wolf spider. In my reply to him I said, in part: I'm certain you've got it right, and that the spider in the photo is a brownish-gray fishing spider and not a wolf spider. I've actually been doubtful of my own identification all along. Before writing the piece I went through my own various fields guides, plus spent a long time online. I guess I was leaning more toward a species of thin-legged wolf spider—but only because I initially thought "wolf spider" and thereafter failed to pay sufficient attention to the materials at hand. The misleading power of presumption.… The rub is that my own copy of the Audubon Society's Field Guide to INSECTS & SPIDERS was still on my desk, right beside my keyboard, when I read your comment. The answer at my fingertips, literally, and me too dumb to notice. Ha! Fishing spiders are common here along the river. I see them almost every day during warm weather. But they are not the same species—rather they're mostly gray (no brown) have a longer legs-to-body ratio, are marked differently with a different shaped body, and have a flatter stance. Plus I never see them more than a yard or two from the water's edge. I hereby thank Deerfriend again for correcting me on this matter.]