The spider has gotten a bad rap over the years. Despite stories like Charlotte’s Web, or the American Indian folk tales that present the spider as benign, many of us still prefer them dead.

I had a period where I trusted the American Indian stories about the spider, and wanted to believe they held special properties. So for most of the time we lived in our West Seattle home, we co-existed with spiders in our bathroom, bedroom, and other shadowy places.

In our basement I met the Wolf Spider, and my opinion changed. The Wolf Spider is like the Hell’s Angels version of the spider: thick, hairy, and territorial. The thing about spiders is that once you see them they tend to freeze for a moment, then split. And when they do, they always move faster than you think they should, because they have so many legs.

I got caught with one of those Wolf Spiders in the cab of our pick-up truck merging onto I-5, and it made me scream and swerve off the highway. I carried a piece of plastic plumbing in my hand the rest of the ride hoping to see it and kill it, but it remained at large.

Last night Lily came into our room because she had another nightmare. I had one too, and they were both inspired by the Christmas light festival in Bellevue, and a scene depicting a large spider in its web, about to feast on a fly.

Categories: Errata

Tags: spiders