What do Beowulf and Siegfried have in common other than Nordic names?
Each has eight legs and a serious hunger for flies. Siegfried and Beowulf are my latest spider “friends.”
I use the term loosely since nobody gets very close to the heart and soul of a spider, but sometime this summer, both spiders, known as deck spiders, liked our cabin and tried to live in our screen porch.
Beowulf ’s plans were thwarted by Dick who blocked his entrance with a steel wool pad, and he quickly moved on, so that relationship was short.
However, Siegfried relocated at the peak of the cabin roof, directly above the front door, and there he resides, patrolling his small kingdom. Siegfried and I have had the longest relationship of any spider I’ve known. Not since the days of the Star Wars movies when a green and white bloated-looking spider we named Jabba the Hut lived near our front door have I had the opportunity to observe a spider close up and personal.
Jabba left us alone. We didn’t bother him, except to watch his actions as he trapped and ate his unfortunate insect victims. He disappeared sometime around the first frost, never to reappear.
Siegfried, technically known as a Dark Fishing Spider, also leaves us alone. Often called deck spiders, this species is big. Really big! According to North Woods Journal by Ryan Marshik and Sparky Stensaas, females may have a four-inch leg span. Deck spiders like lake living and have been known to dive for minnows.
I’m not anxious to deepen my relationship with Siegfried, but it is fascinating, in a creepy sort of way, to look way up and see him always there, either in the peak of the roof or on one side or another. No web is visible, but I figure he must be catching food or he’d have moved on.
I must admit that sometimes at night when I beam the flashlight up and see red eyes glittering in the light, I wish he’d move, maybe go minnow fishing along the lakeshore. But Siegfried stays away from us and keeps his own company, so I have no real reason to complain. He’s reliable as clockwork. There he is, morning, noon and night, living high above us humans as we go in and out the door.
I say “hi” to him, and have a strange feeling he’d like to say a few words if he could, but that’s probably my imagination. I figure the winter will do him in, although I am curious as to whether or not an offspring will take over his space in the spring.
The more I read about the habits of spiders, the more I realize that Siegfried is probably a female and should be called Siegfrieda, and more than likely I will see her descendants when spring arrives.
Before I make myself look like the patron saint of spiders, I must admit to experiencing one very unfortunate spider incident many years ago in a cabin on the Gunflint Trail.
Wolf spiders (often mistaken as deck spiders but hairier with solid bodies) inhabited the ceiling. They seemed to delight in dropping down on unsuspecting humans. Never before and never since have I had a spider phobia, but for one night in that cabin, I did.
Leave a Reply