House Spiders

by Carl Strang

One of the few bad lessons I learned from my parents in childhood was a fear of spiders, especially big ones. As an adult I defused some of this by examining spiders under the microscope, losing the edge of revulsion through familiarity, and discovering an interesting and even beautiful diversity among them. I have come to tolerate spiders in my home, and over the years have noticed three different kinds.

This is the most abundant species. Recently I finally got around to seeking an identification, and with its elongate body and elegant long legs I believe this is the daddy long-legs spider, Pholcus phalangioides (not to be confused with another arachnid, the harvestman, commonly known as the daddy long-legs). These are small, but not to be underestimated. I once rescued another spider that had fallen into the bathtub and couldn’t get out. (I haven’t seen one of these in a while, and don’t have a photo, but it may have been a common house spider, Tegenaria domestica. They are funnel-web weavers, but the males wander in search of females). I dropped the Tegenaria outside the tub, but it didn’t quite reach the floor. It had fallen into the cobweb snare of a Pholcus. The Tegenaria was much larger and stronger looking, and I figured it would break free quickly and continue on its way. Wrong-o. The Pholcus instantly ran up to the larger Tegenaria and, keeping a safe distance with those long legs, quickly wrapped the Tegenaria in silk and made a killing bite. This took only seconds. I felt remorse, but what a lesson!

The third species makes a cobweb snare similar to that of Pholcus. With its rounded abdomen and marbled markings I believe this is Achaearanea tepidariorum, the American house spider.

Like Pholcus, Achaearanea is tiny but not hard to spot against a pale background. Both of these cobweb makers show up all around the house in the summer, but in autumn they gradually concentrate in the bathrooms, and by mid-winter the only place I notice them is the downstairs bathroom. I have thought this is because of a need for humidity, provided by my showers, and references support the idea. This November has been unusually warm, with rains in the latter part of the month. I still have 2 Pholcus in the upstairs bathroom. Downstairs are 4 Achaearanea and 12 Pholcus. I will be interested in following their careers through the coming dry season.

Incidentally, in addition to keeping these spiders around because I am a softie, I like the fact that they take out ants and other home invaders. The Achaearanea in the above photo was perched above the drained carcasses of many prey, mainly ants but also an impressively large beetle.

Likewise, the Pholcus have been keeping ant numbers within reasonable bounds.

Note that this individual has just shed its exoskeleton, and still is pale. Getting out of that old skin must be quite a job with those long slender legs. All three of these species live only in and around buildings. Putting them outside would be a death sentence. They remind us that we are cave dwellers.

Miscellaneous Mayslake Events

by Carl Strang

November is moving along, and I have some observations to report from Mayslake Forest Preserve that characterize the season. First is a casualty of the migration.

Hermit thrush dead b

I found this hermit thrush on the paved path that runs along 31st Street at Mayslake’s north boundary. Probably hit by a car, the bird looks peaceful but sadly still.

Though I haven’t seen the animals themselves, deer have been active on the preserve lately. Here a buck prepared for the rut by attacking some defenseless sumacs in the north savanna.

Buck rub Mayslake 1b

Deer also have been frequenting the orchard on the mansion grounds, snacking on fallen apples.

Deer tracks & apple b

Finally, with the water table dropping during the recent dry spell, crayfish have had to tunnel down to keep pace with it, hence the new chimneys on their holes.

Crayfish chimneys b

These notes begin my second year at Mayslake.

The Worms Crawl In, the Worms Crawl Out

by Carl Strang

Yesterday I described my check of garlic mustard seedling survival in study plots established last spring. While carefully removing fallen leaves to expose the seedlings for counting, I found that many of the leaves seemed stuck in the ground. Furthermore, these were in tiny clusters, and instead of the petiole (stem) end, usually the tips were imbedded.

Nightcrawler tunnel 4b

In the above photo you can see how the tip of the oak leaf seems stuck in the ground, and a couple of other leaf petioles radiate out from the same spot. As I removed these leaves, I found that they were in clearly defined holes in the soil.

Nightcrawler tunnel 2b

The holes were uniform in size, and I was finding a lot of them.

Nightcrawler tunnel 1b

I soon realized what must be the case, and sure enough began to spot the ends of nightcrawlers retreating down the holes as I exposed them. Here is one protruding from its hole.

Nightcrawler tunnel 3b

The conclusion seems inescapable that these large earthworms actively are pulling leaves into their tunnels and consuming them. Typically a hole had several leaves, with various proportions of their lengths having gone into the holes and with the ends missing. I hope the photos are making this clear. Certainly the feel of the clustered leaves stuck in the holes as I cleared the study plots was striking. I never would have encountered this if I had not been pursuing the garlic mustard seedling check. Inquiry leads to inquiry.

Micrathena gracilis

by Carl Strang

A couple years ago I was pleasantly surprised to find, in the garden beds around my home, a few orb-weaving spiders of the species Micrathena gracilis.

Micrathena gracilis b

It was a happy discovery, as this is a forest spider, and it was, like the little firefly Photinus marginellus, a sign that the micro-woodland I had established around my home was successful.

I first encountered Micrathena as a child in northern Indiana. They were common in the woods there, and on our fall squirrel hunts we had to watch for them. It was distracting to get tangled in their webs, and these spiders can bite (the sensation is comparable to that of a biting fly, i.e. something one wants to avoid if possible). During my 5-year stint as an assistant professor of biology in Pennsylvania I found this spider there, as well. I noticed that the spider’s thorny-looking, black-highlighted white abdomen mimics the silk-wrapped debris from earlier feedings clustered near the center of the spider’s web.

When I moved to Illinois 28 years ago I soon noticed that only Waterfall Glen, DuPage County’s southernmost forest preserve along the Des Plaines River, seemed to have Micrathena, though they were fairly common there. Since then they have expanded north and west. A decade or more ago I first saw them at Willowbrook Forest Preserve, close to the center of the county. And now I find them each year in my yard in west central DuPage. Like the broad-winged tree cricket I featured last winter, this spider’s expanding range tells us that nature is dynamic, always changing, worth monitoring.