walking into spiderwebs: an homage to spiders [re-post]
In honor of the start to spooky season, let’s pour one out for the spiders.
“Sorry I’m not home right now I’m walking into spiderwebs.”
- No Doubt Spiderwebs 🕸️Tragic Kingdom
Sticky, grabby, murderous death traps. Stunning works of art and craftsmanship. The spider’s web.
Lately I’ve been seeing spiders literally everywhere I go, and something is telling me to share them again. I never noticed spiders before I got sober and started to actually pay attention to my surroundings. And now I realize they are everywhere and pretty hard to miss.
Visible on crisp Fall mornings when fog and dew droplets gather on each carefully constructed bough. Or golden hour on a sunny afternoon, framed against red leaves, sun filtering through.
Is there anything more frightening than unpredictability? Particularly huge bugs that fly directly at your face. Growing up in Texas we had an assortment: Grasshoppers, June Bugs, Katydids, Cockroaches, Cicadas, Crickets, Locusts, not to mention Yellow Jackets, Hornets, Wasps, and my personal favorite, the Mud Dauber, jet black and builds ornate muddy nests but in theory won’t sting you and isn’t out for blood.
Spiders were always the heroes of my childhood. Rumor has it they’ll make a meal out of any one of these, snagging them mid flight and unsuspecting in their web. Even my parents would discourage us from killing spiders because they were the “good guys,” terrifying as they were. Spiders were on a whole other tier, feared and revered, trapped in a cup and taken delicately outside so they could live to kill another day. I admire them deeply.
Here are a few spider webs I’ve caught along my journeys lately. May they ensnare you.
Heading north past Husky Stadium on my way to work, I often take the back trails East over Ravenna Creek towards the marshlands, the Hyde Herbarium and Center for Urban Horticulture. The spiderwebs gather along this trail, NE Wahkiakum Lane.
Either of the two trails between the Creek and the Herbarium form the Waterfront Trail, a loop between Lake Washington and the Yesler Swamp, joining the path through Union Bay Boglands and the UW Botanical Gardens.
Laurelhurst neighborhood starts turning red in August and has the most vibrant colors I’ve ever seen.
I find myself walking this neighborhood at night for work. The spiderwebs are prominent on top of street lights, a whole other world hidden during the day, now in spotlight. The poles are prime real estate - you won’t find any without a web or five.
Laurelhurst is the entryway to the Burke-Gilman Trail near U District.
This stretch of Burke-Gilman is pretty well maintained and trimmed back. All the webs were up high among the tree branches. At one point, I had my arms above my head, trying to get the perfect shot of the sun hitting the web just right, when I nearly walked into one, mere inches from my face.
Spiders command attention along the trail between Golden Gardens Park and Chittenden Locks in Ballard.
(Fun fact: Even though it’s on the opposite side of town, the beach at Golden Gardens Park is technically the end of the Burke-Gilman trail. Burke-Gilman is a beautiful beast that spans 20 miles across Seattle, and I have yet to scratch the surface.)
Leaving Golden Gardens Park, heading South along the waterfront, there are plenty of webs in the brush and trees, but they really shine along the RV hookups to the right.
In late August I was fortunate enough to discover the Trailhead Direct shuttle buses that pick up in downtown Seattle and take hikers out to Mount Si in North Bend. It runs on weekends and Holidays between Memorial Day and Labor Day.
Spider webs canopy the tops of trees on the Little Si Trail, especially near the boulders just past "The Woods" designated for rock climbing.
It is common to feel the telltale sticky threads along my arms and legs when I unknowingly cross a delicate strand on the trail.
On my way back to the trailhead, I came across another magical spot just beyond the mossy boulders. The late afternoon sun shines just right through the trees to light up an enormous webbed labyrinth, intertwined in the air, reflecting the intricate lattice of mycelium underground.
Closer to home, so many beautiful webs peak out along Interlaken Drive.
One afternoon I found myself sitting on a bench enjoying a tiny brook in solitude, and I sensed movement to my right. A little magician walking a tight rope, building out their bridge one section after another. Tiny ghosts, floating mid-air without wings, spinning threads of silk across the path.
On one of my salmon searching days, I came across this beauty at Codiga Park, their web architected brilliantly in front of the red barn picnic area.
Larch Madness is coming soon, advertising their fiery rusts and auburn, tawny hues as early as August. While searching for them, I had the pleasure of visiting Leschi and Frink Park and discovered this beautiful babe of a spider on my walk to the bus stop. Absolute Arachnid perfection.
Spiders symbolize creativity, patience, balance, persistence, death, interconnection, and personal growth.
I hope you cross paths with a spider web soon, and may its woven secrets reveal the answers you’re seeking.
Hauntingly yours,
dreary dendrophile
If this post has stirred your spirit, let your presence be known by clicking the heart and restack icons, or by leaving a comment below. Your engagement can summon other wandering souls to this collection, and I am yearning to hear your haunted reflections. Thank you.
This was a delight! I mean, my daughter would hate it (she suffers from true arachnaphobia), but I loved your take on the art and function of the spider's sticky craft. I haven't written it (yet), but the title, "Spiders I have known" keeps popping up in my head. Might have to have some fun with that soon. Thanks for the inspiration! :)
Thank you so much! I think a lot of people are afraid of spiders. I’m much more fearful of the bugs who fly. 😬
I like that title, can’t wait to read whatever you have cooking.