I’m still trying to work out the biology of nest building in my spiders — I’ve got some that assemble cunning little nests out of wood shavings, and some that do not. Someday I’ll have to figure out whether this is a different species from P. tepidariorum or not.
Cute, hey? I’ve been looking at spider architecture for a while, and am rather impressed with their work.
I suspect it might be P. tabulata, but I’ve got to do more experiments to be sure. I say more about it on my Patreon page.
It’s that time of year when all the spectacular orb webs are popping up all over. We found a few of their makers this morning — photos on iNaturalist and Instagram if you’d like to see them.
Nope, no way. They just keep getting in the way of finding spiders.
We took a walk out by our Horticulture Display Gardens, which recently reopened — but with sensible restrictions, like social distancing and masks and arrows designating the directions for walking. It was a little disappointing. Oh, sure, flowers and all that stuff, but our timing was off, because last night the area got pummeled by a brutal storm, there were downed trees and tree branches everywhere, and worst of all, most of the spider webs had been blown away. We found a few examples of spider survivors trying to recover from the catastrophe, like this brave little baby spider who had put together a beautifully formed orb web.
There were a few others around (posted on Instagram), but we’ll probably find more in a few days, once everything has dried out and they have a chance to do some reconstruction.
I found a happy couple, a pair of Parasteatoda, nestled in a very awkward nook, low to the ground and difficult to photograph. That may be to their benefit though, since it’s nicely sheltered.
They’ve built a nest of flower petals and debris brought up from the ground. It’s fairly elaborate, which means it’s not a shack, it’s a palace by spider standards. The female is down below, the male is hiding up above.
(If you want to see it, it’s on my Patreon and Instagram pages)
I strongly suspect this is Parasteatoda tabulata, because they’re the ones with a reputation for building refuges in their web. The only way to be sure is to…dissect them and look at details of their anatomy, which seems like a cruel way to break up the happy pair and destroy their hideaway.
I’m going to take a different tack and leave them alone until I see an egg sac. Then I’ll scoop them up, home and all, and put them in a nice roomy cage in my lab with plenty of food and no predators and raise their offspring. Then maybe I’ll dissect a few of their children instead.
Yikes, that took a dark turn.
We’ve had a little friend staying with us, hanging out in the shower stall. You may recognize it — they love bathrooms, and maybe you’ve got one or a few living with you, too!
Hey! Tonight! It’s the start of the 2020 American Arachnology Society Virtual Summer Symposium, and it’s going to be great.
We’re very excited to launch the AAS 2020 Virtual Summer Symposium TODAY, June 25, 7-9 PM ET with a brief welcome and overview of the symposium, and the keynote address by Martin Ramirez, Senior Researcher at Museo Argentino de Ciencias Naturales, Buenos Aires, Argentina. This talk is honoring the contributions of Norman Platnick to arachnology: “From roots to myriad leaves: the legacy of Norman Platnick on spider systematics”.
So it’s going to start with a discussion of this Platnick.
I anticipate some spicy conversations about cladistics.
Also note, tomorrow is all about social justice.
We also want to share updates and encourage you to join the Forum tomorrow, Friday June 26, 3-5 pm ET where we will host a community discussion of impacts of racism on arachnology and potential actions the AAS can take.
At a science conference?!?? Of course. Smart people care about correcting racial inequalities.
This post features grisly female spider violence, so it may not be to everyone’s taste.
Maybe I’m the only one enthused by it all, but the 2020 American Arachnology Society Virtual Summer Symposium starts the day after tomorrow. Online admission is only $10 if you want to see it! A quick summary of the schedule:
A jolly time will be held by all. It’s more spread out than the usual in-person scientific meeting, which means, I hope, it will be low-stress and a little less exhausting than the usual affair.
We spent a few hours at UMM’s EcoStation this morning. It’s out by the Grue Church, at the end of Grue Church Lane, just off of Grue Church Road. We made sure to visit in daylight — you wouldn’t want to be there after dark. You might get eaten.
Spoiler: We weren’t eaten. It was swarming with insects and spiders, though, which was the whole point — despite the ugly gray weather, we had a grand time lying in the muck and watching the spiders come out to play. And there weren’t too many ticks, and mosquitos didn’t bother us!
I put the rest of the story, including photos of some pretty spiders, in a public post on Patreon.
The other day, I caught a spider I didn’t recognize — this is not at all uncommon, I’m an amateur trying to learn — and I had to post it on iNaturalist to get it identified. It was a Pirate Spider! I’d never seen one before. If you’re not familiar with pirate spiders, they’ve earned their name: they are predators of spiders that board other spider’s webs and kill the owner and loot her of her life, arrrr.
Pirate spiders are members of the spider group that includes all the “orb weavers” – those that make the prototypical, circular webs we are all familiar with – but they do not make webs.
In fact, they have lost the ability. They can still produce silk, which they use to build egg sacs and wrap prey. But they are anatomically incapable of spinning a web. The number of silk “spigots” on their spinnerets is dramatically small compared to their relatives.
Instead, they invade the webs of other spiders, in a bid to lure and then kill the hapless architect. Gently, they pluck the strings of the web, enticing the host to approach.
Once the host spider has ventured close enough, the pirate makes its move.
First, it encloses its duped prey within its two enormous front legs. These are fringed with massive spines, called “macrosetae”, which they use to trap the host within a prison-like basket.
Then, the final move: the pirate bites its prey and uses its fangs to inject a powerful venom that instantly immobilises it.
I include my photo below the fold.
