Posts Tagged ‘spider webs’
Not Solved
It was probably wishful thinking on my part to believe the barking dog issue was permanently solved.
3 a.m.
4 a.m.
5 a.m.
Then it stopped. In my semi-conscious wish to be still asleep, I imagined maybe the closer neighbor had reached their limit and called for official intervention in the predawn darkness when spiders are manically spinning spectacular orb webs.
At 6:11, it started again. Poor dog. Doesn’t take a breath between yips anymore. Just constantly screams for something.
If the cops got them to bring the dog inside, it only lasted for a short time after they’d left. Of course, this is all my addled, sleep-interrupted mind making up one scenario. It’s equally possible the dog just got tired and shut up for a spell.
Since we live out of sight from the source of this angst, I don’t have a vision of where this dog is located while endlessly yapping for attention.
In supreme contrast, I walked pleasantly with Asher through our woods and on to the barn, where the horses were serene as could be. They appear to find the new senior feed much to their liking compared to the corn and oats that were being served prior. We have completed the transition, and they get 100% processed pellets.
They gobble it up much more quickly, licking the buckets clean and spilling much less on their placemats.
We are looking forward to having less “food” lying all around for the critter pests that consider the area around the overhang to be their free buffet.
The senior feed looks to be a change that does solve at least a couple of issues for us. The distant neighbor’s barking dog problem remains a work in progress.
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Travel Averse
For a guy who doesn’t like to travel, the next few weeks will be a test of my stamina. Or is it patience? We are flying to Chicago today for a wedding of Cyndie’s nephew over the weekend. Less than a week after we get back, I join two friends to drive to the far side of South Dakota to bike the Mickelson Trail over five days. When I return from that adventure, Cyndie and I travel with our friends, Barb and Mike, flying to Boston to explore Beantown activities with Barry and Carlos. That will include a jaunt to Maine to spend some time at their lake place.
I get tired just thinking about it all. I already miss my bed. But looking on the (sarcastic) bright side, I will get to deal with airport TSA at least four different times and hang out for hours with many other strangers who are traveling to or from the same places as me. I will get to sleep in hotel rooms! <blech!>
I will miss emerging from the trees while walking Asher in the morning to find an amazing number of mystical-looking spiderwebs that were woven overnight, hanging vertically in the tall grasses of the back pasture.
Yesterday, we expected to be able to meet a local woman who responded to Cyndie’s ad in the neighborhood app seeking volunteers. The meeting had already been postponed by one day because she was unexpectedly called upon to care for a grandchild.
The appointed hour came and went, and we heard nothing. Cyndie sent an inquiry but got no response. It felt like we were being ghosted.
To our relief, just before dinner, Cyndie received a response from the woman. Unfortunately, her day was disrupted by an early morning phone call with the distressing news of a friend’s death. We gladly agreed to try again to meet in September after we return from Boston.
Coincidentally, we had a second meeting planned for the afternoon horse feeding with a new person who volunteers with This Old Horse. She has been helping out at a barn in New Richmond, which is 30 miles north of us. Cyndie is hoping to get coverage for horse feedings over Labor Day weekend, when I will be on my bike trip in South Dakota.
We were one for two on the day.
The adventures of establishing coverage for animal care when we are away can be as involved as the travels on which we embark. That probably contributes to my general preference for remaining at home. I feel a bit like Eugene Levy, the Reluctant Traveler.
I am inclined to label myself travel-averse.
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Webs Spectacle
On our walk Friday morning, emerging from the woods with Asher on our way to feed the horses, we witnessed a spectacle I don’t remember ever seeing before. Spider webs. Lots of them. Admittedly, spider webs in the morning are not that special. I posted a picture of a dewy web just a few days ago.
Two things made this display of webs stand out more than ever: the location and the incredible number of them.
Like so many times before, I immediately decided that the glorious display couldn’t be adequately captured in a photo. Thankfully, Cyndie does not share my perception and fearlessly points her phone camera at any and all attractions that catch her eye.
She graciously shared them with me.
I tried zooming in on one of the images to provide a better view.
We have often been greeted by a vast number of funnel webs in the grass on our morning walks but these webs were completely different. These were the classic orb webs standing vertically above the grass in the back pasture.
They show up as white-ish smudges in the image and there are at least 14 visible in that shot. It really was a spectacle to see with our eyes. The low angle of the morning sunshine illuminated the webs so that they stood out dramatically as we stepped into the open from the woods.
It’s nice to see webs in the grass instead of strung invisibly across the trails in the woods. It is a regular occurrence that whoever is leading on our morning walks will offer many utterances of “you’re welcome” when breaking imperceptible strands of webs across our faces, saving the other person from such a fate.
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Overnight Construction
Our morning walks to the barn, by way of the woods so that Asher can get his needs met, always reveal an impressive amount of activity that occurs while we sleep.
Burrowing critters have been creating shockingly large piles of freshly mined dirt lately. They probably need to make new homes because snakes have moved into all their previous caverns.
I used to stomp these piles down, partly thinking I might drive dirt back where it came from and convince the rodents to choose a different location, but that just created large, flat dirt spots where nothing would grow.
After a moment of inspiration, I realized that kicking the pile far and wide spread the dirt thinly over the grass blades and avoided creating a big dead spot. I have mostly given up on trying to coerce the pests to go somewhere else.
I often complain about walking into the hard-to-see strands of spider web that span our pathways but there are many more webs being built that don’t cross the trails.
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It may look like this hand tool hasn’t been used in a long time, but the steel scrubby was getting attached too and it was in use to clean the waterer just a day before.
I wonder if the nighttime builders are surprised when they come out at dusk and discover all the things Cyndie and I have done around the place during the day. Like, maybe, the burrowing critters find their den caved in and decide to move from the lawn areas to a field or the woods.
Honestly, the more effort we put toward clearing spider webs and gopher mounds the more it seems to inspire pests to become more invested in rebuilding and expanding their developments.
There may be some form of reverse psychology potential awaiting me in the coexistence with the creatures that appear to work at odds with our daily activity, but that is probably overthinking.
Still, choosing to simply ignore their activity has some appeal, even if it won’t lead to making them go away.
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Fence Bit
Because I can, I turned on the US Open tennis tournament last night and caught a very entertaining first-round match between Coco Gauff and Laura Siegemund. It’s a treat to escape from thinking about what needs to be done around here for an hour or two and lose myself in a dramatic battle between two athletes.
I didn’t realize I would also find a ceremony honoring Billie Jean King on the 50th anniversary of her efforts to convince the US Open to give equal pay to women. It is easy to forget that I have lived through as many changes in the world as have occurred in my lifetime. Yet, it seems like there are still so many ways the human race falls short of ideals.
Asher is showing how to lose oneself in a nap.
Cyndie caught him in the landscape pond again. She said this time he went under her makeshift barrier and since she saw him going in, was able to stop him before he destroyed another intake filter. She also reported that he finally got shocked by the electric fence around the pasture.
He seemed pretty subdued to me the rest of the day. I hope he learns to avoid it from here on out.
Shortly after his fence incident, I had the power off while I weed-whipped around it. His timing was just a little off. I’m guessing he doesn’t sense the electric field like the horses can when the wires are “hot.”
I didn’t get bit by fence electricity but I walked into plenty of invisible spider webs yesterday.
Here is one of my phone camera shots where I couldn’t get it to jump to macro lens focus:
The web that wasn’t in focus is one of the few traps I was able to see and thus successfully avoid. The rest are all stuck to my clothes or peeled off my face.
It rained for a few seconds last night, despite the weather radar failing to depict any precipitation overhead. It was too brief to even get anything wet.
I called for an update on the schedule for getting our driveway shoulders professionally finished and was finally given a date.
“Wednesday,” he said.
I assumed he meant next week but, no, he told me it would be this week. I’m not going to hold my breath for that to actually happen.
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Spidey Senses
If I were more industrious about capturing snapshots of the endless number of spiderwebs we encounter this time of year, I might luck out and do one of them justice. Alas, I find myself lamenting the shortcomings of my undisciplined methods when we happen upon a most spectacular specimen of a web but cannot get the iPhone camera I’m carrying to pick up the detail of light reflecting off the individual strands of silk.
Nothing I capture with a lens can compare to the real-life stereo-vision image that my eyes and head movement provide.
The time I came upon a small leaf that appeared to hover in the air on a single line of silk across one of our trails, I had to resort to recording a video and moving the phone around to show the leaf was “magically” floating in the air.
I took a crack at this web on the side of the barn because the lines reaching out to the ground were particularly interesting.
I ended up liking this picture more for the angle of the fence and background field, trees, and sky, and how they contrast with the repeating lines in the metal siding of the barn.
Still, I gave another try to get those strands to the ground.
Just doesn’t come close to what I was seeing with my eyes.
I sure hope all the spiders are feasting on flies around the barn. We are definitely noticing the lack of free-ranging chickens around here by way of the increased amount of nuisance insects since we paused keeping hens.
August isn’t over yet and here I am yearning for a good hard frost to kick off the season without irritating flies and mosquitos. A momentary lapse in my being fully present in the moment.
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Vanishing Act
One thing about the high humidity of the last two days that I didn’t expect is how spiders and mosquitos have taken over the woods. They probably like that it has been staying warm all night, too. It is very common to walk into a single strand of spider silk that crosses our trails but lately, it has been entire completed webs that remain invisible unless the light hits them at just the right angle.
Even after walking into it, you can’t see it but can feel it sticking and flailing to rub it off is far from successful. So you just flail even more.
Meanwhile, the mosquitos haven’t even been waiting for us to stop walking before buzzing our ears and attacking in numbers. It scares me if I have to pause and wait for Asher to do his business for fear I will be carried off by the marauders. I just resort to flailing as if I had just walked into a spider web.
One action that solves two problems.
So, Swings lost her fly mask yesterday. When we left the barn after serving their morning feed, all four horses had masks on, the fans were running on high, and we’d put out extra water for the day. When Cyndie checked on them mid-morning, Swings wasn’t wearing a mask.
We have not seen them venturing far from the fans very often since this nasty heat dome arrived so we both figured the mask shouldn’t be hard to spot. We were wrong. It was nowhere in sight around the overhang or inside the paddock. Nothing was visible looking out at the fields near the gates.
When serving their evening food, I took a walk through portions of the hay field and found nothing. At sunset, when closing up the barn and removing masks from the other three, I walked around in the back pasture and, again, found nothing.
That mask has vanished. We have no idea where she lost it. Usually, they rub up against something, so trees and fence posts are likely targets. I don’t believe the horses would have hustled out for a short visit to one of the fields and then returned before Cyndie showed up to check on them, so logic tells me it should be inside the paddocks.
I will expect to find it this morning while patrolling the taller growth in the paddock with the wheelbarrow looking for new piles of manure.
One other unlikely thing happened during this heat wave. We found a large branch about 3-4 inches in diameter lying in the yard beneath one of our larger oak trees first thing in the morning. It wasn’t windy and the wood looked healthy so I have no idea why such a large branch broke off.
When cutting it up, I saved several good sections for sculpting hearts and two long pieces that have a nice pattern. They will make for some nice coasters.
Can’t wait to do some sanding and polishing to see how they will look when all cleaned up. You know, do a vanishing act of those blade marks on the surfaces!
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Sun Spot
While walking through the woods late yesterday, Cyndie and Delilah came upon one specific spot that was lit up by a ray of sunshine breaking through the otherwise thick and hazy overcast.
Is that cool, or what?
Our trees have been shedding more branches lately than humans shed hair.
It’s as if there was a time-delayed reaction to the thunderstorm last week. I had to pick up a lot of tree branch shrapnel before mowing on Monday. Two days later, we have been finding additional branches on the ground almost every time we go out.
Some of them are much larger than the usual little ones frequently shed.
There is one other phenomenon occurring across our trails lately. Spiderwebs! And not just the usual single invisible strand that we normally encounter when walking Delilah. These have been full-on webs. One even made a sound when Cyndie walked into it. Must have been strung tight like a guitar string.
The thing is, we have been encountering these after having already walked the same path earlier in the day. These spiders are industrious.
We tend to react with the typical flinching and flailing to free our bodies of the remnants and possible attached arachnids.
I suffered one entanglement last week that occurred when I had both hands full of tools, as well as Delilah’s leash. I felt the single strand impact right below my nose, across my mustache.
What the heck. I decided to forge ahead so I wouldn’t have to set down everything I was carrying and pretended I was ignoring the strand while thinking about it the entire way back to the house.
Oh, and also, stepping over all the branches littering the trail.
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Two Techniques
There are multiple methods to achieve a goal. I tend towards the concrete sequential, while Cyndie is gifted at abstract random. We appear to have spiders of both method types residing in our midst.
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Do you think these guys maybe studied under different architects? The conditions on this morning’s walk were ideal for seeing webs. Low sun, heavy dew.
This is a combination of photos where I expect to see the description that the first spider was fed a healthy diet, and the second spider was subjected to some addictive substance. Oh, dear. Look what it does to the poor thing.
Maybe it’s the same spider, and it is looking to capture two different kinds of prey. Did you consider that possibility?
I suspect an arachnologist would be able to offer a more studious analysis, but I prefer to go with the different architects explanation.
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Different Ropes
Ours weren’t the only ropes hanging in the trees over the weekend. The woods were thick with spider webs that were made all the more impressive by the drops of 100% humidity clinging to them. It was impossible to move around in pursuit of our goals without repeatedly disrupting some very impressive architecture.
Cyndie let out an audible startle when she suddenly came upon a chest-high web with the spider perched right in the center. It was probably just finishing a meal.
I tried to capture some of the wonder of this beauty from several different angles. I wanted to get that big leaf out of the frame and finally just reached out to nudge it aside, but it was firmly attached as a primary support. I had to leave it right where it was.
It really was the quintessential web design for the most part, but then the web maker seemed to veer off into a dramatic free form array of supports, angles, and lines.
It looked abstract enough to imply the spider may have been tipping back some fermented fruit or something. At the same time, it’s quite possible it was sheer brilliance to establish a framework on which the rest of the traditional web could rely.
You be the judge.
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Relative Something 