Years ago SR and I moved to a small gulf island on the west coast. Sandstone beaches, arbutus trees and killer whales…a natural paradise. Until September. September through October transformed our daily lives into some kind of late night, drive-in, B-movie. It started small – the odd web would appear on the front porch…we’d find ourselves walking through sticky silk on the way to the car…and then one morning we’d wake up, look out the window, and find net curtains hung from the outside. Human sized traps would be spun across door-frames. The spaces between the electrical and phone wires all the way along the main road became filled with intricate webs and giant-assed spiders.
Spider season was not something I missed when we packed up the homestead and headed east almost a decade ago.
I thought it was forever behind us. That was until this weekend when I wandered into the backyard and found most everything wrapped in a soft, organza death-trap.