September seems to be the season of spiders, at least here where we live in the western Piedmont of North Carolina. For weeks, the dogs and I have coexisted with an orb weaver on the deck just outside the bedroom. She has been quite tolerant of our comings and goings, and has even started spinning her nightly web inside the frame of the back door (which has a large window panel for a spectacular view).
This past week, we also had a visit from a jumping spider. It hung out on the bedroom ceiling for a few days, before I found it curled in a ball on the floor. I was sad that it wasn’t with us a little while longer, but honored that our bedroom could be a safe space for its final days.
Its presence also reminded me of a short essay I posted here back in September, 2022, which I thought I would share with you, since our little community has grown quite a bit since then.
What do spiders dream about?
If we knew that spiders were dreaming while suspended on webs or hanging by a silk thread, would we carelessly sweep them away with a broom? Or worse, act on every instinct to obliterate the ones with comb-footed legs and glossy black abdomens marked by inverted red triangles? Would we be better able to empathize with the Araneae order, consider them housemates instead of pests or something to fear?
National Geographic posted an online article in 2022 about a spider sleep study, conducted by ecologist Daniela Rößler at the University of Konstanz in Germany. Rößler’s lab hosted a nursery of baby jumping spiders, which were found to exhibit a sleep-like state with rapid eye movements similar to those observed in dreaming humans.
So, what do spiders dream about? According to the study, baby jumping spiders appear to dream about dropping silk anchors and fleeing predators as a way to practice survival skills.
I once let a jumping spider named Mitchell coexist in our bedroom for an entire summer. Mostly, he stayed on the roll-up matchstick shades, peering down at me like a tiny, silver-streaked alien with spiny legs and prominent eyes. Occasionally, he would venture across the ceiling or make his way into the bathroom, presumably exploring or hunting whatever it was that allowed a jumping spider to survive the summer months in our bedroom.
For those of you wondering, I did try to set Mitchell free one afternoon, thinking he was better suited for a life outdoors. I carefully relocated him to the deck just outside the door with a flat piece of junk mail, but he soon made his way back inside, preferring the climate-controlled safety of our bedroom I supposed.
After reading about the spider sleep study, I thought about Mitchell—who disappeared one day without drawing any attention. It gives me comfort to think that as we laid in bed at night, he too was sleeping, tucked inside a silk pouch with legs folded in, dreaming of his adventures from the window to the ceiling and the bathroom mirror.
Read more about the living creatures that keep us company here on earth in my most recent collection of poems, Every Note, a Lantern, now available for purchase from Kelsay Books and Amazon.
Such a cute photo of Mr. Jumping Jack Flash. My son Will and I have been watching a cat faced orb weaver right outside his bedroom window for the last couple weeks. We even plonked a recently deceased moth on the web. Amazing critters. Thanks
Loved this post. Helps me to move beyond my unreasoning fear of these creatures. Also, Every Note,a Lantern is such a beautiful gift. Each poem is a luminous gem . Thank you.