Aliens in My Garden: Banded Argiopes

banded_argiopes3

Fall is the season of the spider around here. Well, I suppose that’s not exactly accurate. Summer seems to be the season of the spider in my kitchen. Fall is their season in my garden. Every summer a range of smaller species and one female Cross Orbweaver (Araneus diadematus) sets up shop in my kitchen window. They keep to themselves for the most part, the orb weavers building incredibly elaborate webs on which they catch the flies that follow me in through the garden door.

Ours is a mutually beneficial relationship, although it is also a tenuous one. They take care of the fruit fly plague, and in return I allow them to stay as long as they agree to remain mostly out in the open where I can see them. I have a healthy respect for spiders. I might even say that I like them. They are fascinating creatures to observe as long as you don’t imagine yourself in the place of their prey. In that manner, they are like tiny sharks living all around us. Their senses are acute and their movement is swift and sure. One second they are motionless, chilling out in their web, and within seconds they have caught a fly and in what seems like only moments after that they have it wrapped tight inside a silk cocoon and extracted its body fluids. Yikes. Spiders don’t mess around. Plus they have crazy eyes and fangs. It’s no wonder that arachnophobia is within the top 10 of all phobias world wide. As a gardener I appreciate the way they keep insect pest populations in check. Unfortunately, they are not discriminating so a few beloved pollinators are sure to be lost amidst the mosquitos, jumping sap suckers, and anything else that happens to be feeding on me or my plants. Still, they have an important role to play. So do sharks, for that matter.

banded_argiopes4

I appreciate spiders for the important place they take in a healthy ecosystem, but I don’t like them ON my person. I can tolerate the hundreds of dead insect carcasses that they discard onto my once clean window ledge and through the years, both Davin and I have experienced great delight in the small window into the lifecycle and habits of the spiders that have taken up residence in our kitchen. We have given them a series of lazy and uncreative names: Spidey 1, Spidey 2, etc. We often discuss the spiders and their progress. “Have you seen Spidey today? She didnt come out.” “Oh, she’s still alive. Just hiding out on top of the window ledge.” We have shared a sense of pride in those that have made it through into the winter months and have even gone out of our way to catch flies to feed to the weakened spiders that struggle to keep their webs in shape as the season progresses. It has been almost heartbreaking to watch as their webs become scragglier and scragglier, and I’ve felt a strange sense of loss when we inevitably find the dead body of the most recent incarnation of Spidey.

Despite all of that, I just can’t deal with a spider crawling on my body. That is where I draw the line. I realize that the need for this boundary is somewhat irrational here in Toronto where there are no spiders that can kill or even really harm me, but I will admit that when one of the male orb weavers went rogue one summer and ended up springing down from the ceiling RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE, I ran shrieking from the room and it took me a good 20 minutes to go back in. From there on it was nothing but drama as I attempted to track the movements of that spider as he darted around the kitchen from one location to the next. He spent far too much time on the ceiling for my comfort and I found myself scanning the kitchen ceiling every time I entered the room, which in my line of work is often. At one point I jokingly texted Davin to tell him that we’d probably have to fill up the kitchen with cement and build a new one, and a small part of me meant it. Of course, that was a few years ago and I’ve lost count of the Spideys that have comfortably cohabited with us since. Regardless, I will NEVER let a male orb weaver set up in our kitchen window EVER again. They’ve got the wired energy of an immature frat boy on spring break — they are perpetually on the move looking for a sexual partner to hook up with. They have terrible social skills and I am fairly certain that they never put the toilet seat down! Sorry dude-buddy-dude; enjoy your stay in the garden OUTSIDE. Winter may be coming, but there is no room in this inn.

banded_argiopes

Speaking of the garden, this afternoon I went outside to collect fresh greens and a few other veggies to make my lunch. A friend was over at the time harvesting stalks of lavender blossoms from the xeriscaped rock garden/cactus garden that I refer to as the Dry Garden Bed. Did you know that if you cut the lavender back you can often get one and sometimes even two more flower harvests before the season ends? Anyway, she called me over to check out a spider that had set up a web between some plants. At first glance I thought it was a Yellow Garden Spider (Argiope aurantia), a very common spider here in Toronto. As I mention in the following video, I used to find loads of them in my plot at the Parkdale Community Garden, especially the year that my plot was full of calendula. With that bright yellow and black colouring, elongated legs, and insanely large fangs, they appear quite threatening. The colouration is meant to scare away birds, but given how nature often colours things brightly for a reason, my initial reaction is often to keep my curiosity at a reasonable distance. Even though I know they really aren’t interested in me, I still don’t think I would feel comfortable if one of these set up in my kitchen window and I recall being somewhat put off about walking barelegged among them in my community garden.

A video posted by Gayla Trail (@yougrowgirl) on

banded_argiopes2 banded_argiopes5 banded_argiopes6

I’ve been wondering when one of these guys/gals was going to show up in my current garden. I’ve built an attractive ecosystem here that is full of flying and jumping insects for them to feast on. Yet in the 5 years that I have been here I have spotted countless spiders of all sorts, just not one of these.

Back indoors, I did some research and realized that this is not the same species as the bright yellow and black spiders at the community plot. The one in the garden today is called Banded Argiopes (Argiope trifasciata). They look very similar on first glance, however the Bandied Argiopes looks just like its name, with bands of yellow across its body, which the Yellow Garden Spider has yellow zigzags set against a black body. I really don’t know much more about these spiders other than that they are orb weavers. Despite everything I’ve written here, I’m really pleased that one of these little intimidating beauties has found its way here and I hope it sticks around and makes babies. I’d love to spend some time observing more of them in the future.

Gayla Trail
Gayla is a writer, photographer, and former graphic designer with a background in the Fine Arts, cultural criticism, and ecology. She is the author, photographer, and designer of best-selling books on gardening, cooking, and preserving.

Subscribe to get weekly updates from Gayla

2 thoughts on “Aliens in My Garden: Banded Argiopes

  1. I very much enjoy those portraits of insects and arachnoids. It’s weird how I find spiders up to a certain (small) size very cute, and from then on I have a hard time not to shriek. It seems to get better though by enjoying them from a safe distance (like this f.e.) and getting to know spiders in the grey zone of a little too big, but not that scary yet. So thanks. :]

  2. I couldn’t agree more about spiders. They are fascinating, wonderful creatures, but pretty, pretty please – don’t crawl on me. Or even too near me, heck. LOL! We used to have a spider that would hang out every year right outside our back door on our balcony and we went through many of the same discussions and observations as you guys did. It was definitely interesting to witness. Your second to last picture is awesome — I’ve always wondered what it looks like where the webbing comes out. I’ve been enlightened, thank you.

Comments are closed.