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It isn’t a surprise that Troy was not cognizant of this species. It’s a small spider, and hides itself and its modest web well among the leafy boughs of trees and shrubs of forests and back yard haunts. If I search my back yard thoroughly in mid-summer, I may find one or two of them among the lowest branches of a pyracantha or cedar elm, but never does the spider or its web flaunt its presence. The out-of-the-way web it builds is oriented in the horizontal plane, so we humans are not as likely to realize we’ve bumped into one in the field, the way we are when we come across the in-your-face webs of ordinary orb weavers like the yellow garden spider or the arabesque orb weaver, both of which brazenly stretch their webs directly across our garden paths. [...]
Meg has been collecting some spitting spiders (in this case, Scytodes thoracica), for me for some time now. Spitting spiders are easy to care for. A small fly for food, once a week or so, is all they need in the way of food and drink. They are not fussy about accommodations, as long as their habitat is dry and free of predators — such as triangulate house spiders and, yes, other spitters, which are not at all reluctant about eating one another. [...]
The bright blue tint of its fresh coating of hairs faded slowly, over the next few days, to the more drab brown typical of the genus. Elizabeth placed it in captivity in a large jar so her grandchildren could study it during their regular visits, then watched it — and photographed it — until finally returning it to her garden. There it wandered back under a landscaping timber, returning to its earlier life as a denizen amongst the herbs and flowers, stalking its prey and enjoying a life of freedom. [...]
This is one of our most beautiful spiders, particularly when adorned in its most attractive phase, with the brownish dorsal abdomen decorated in reddish fringes and a coalescence of white spots that form, at least to francophiles, a fleur de lis, to others a cross roughly similar to the markings of the diadem spider (Araneus diadematus Clerck). But, then, only a fraction of the females of this species are so adorned. Most apparently display an unmarked brownish dorsal abdomen. I have lost the reference for the moment, but one arachnologist was reported to claim that E. ravilla only displays these white spots as a juvenile, and loses them at adulthood. However, the evidence suggests that at least some mature females — including Stephanie’s specimen (our present focus) and a specimen photographed south of Houston by Joe and Elizabeth LeBlanc in 2009, posted below — continue to sport them into adulthood, and probably throughout their natural lives. [...]
This spider appeared to have many of the characters of a spider in the Amphinectidae family, Metaltella simoni, which bites but is not known to produce serious medical consequences. As I’m presently studying the Amphinectidae, I asked her to preserve the spider in alcohol and hold it to be picked up at a time and place of mutual convenience. She asked what kind of alcohol was best for that purpose. [...]
received the following e-mail regarding the spider shown at left on 25 November 2011: “Attached is a spider we found in Yoakum, Texas in a dirt pile inside a small funnel he built. The spider was a real shiny brown, and the closest thing I can find that looks like it is native to Australia! The spider is about an inch and a half long, and appears to have 10 legs. Let me know if you could help me identify it. Thanks!” [...]
Recluse spiders are, well… reclusive. They are not easy to find unless the home is absolutely infested with them, to the point that that they have trouble finding places to hide that aren’t already loaded with other brown recluse spiders. This home was neat as a pin, and had absolutely no obvious clutter where brown recluse spiders could secret themselves away from the sight of humans with strong flashlights. [...]
This spider was playing dead under the bath mat. I thought it was dead, so I scooped it up onto a paper plate to take a picture of it next to a quarter. When I tried to flip it over to take a picture of the other side of it, it sprang it’s legs out and started running all over the place. I panicked and smashed it as you can see. It was quite large! [...]
Male spiders of most species have enlarged palpal tibias, with a cymbium, a bulb, and an embolus, which together provide for sperm storage and intromission (see the montage of photos later in this article for images of the pedipalps), that transform them into copulatory devices, as described by Foelix (1996), p. 16; the female’s palps, by comparison, are morphologically similar to ordinary ambulatory appendages, except that they are absent a metatarsus. Thus, if a spider has remarkably swollen pedipalps, regardless of the species, it can safely be sexed as a male. Dave’s specimens met that criteria. [...]
Of 16 families presently recognized in the infraorder Mygalomorphae, many are comprised strictly of trapdoor spiders. Their familial and generic names are long and difficult to pronounce. But if you investigate their origins you will discover a rich history. For example, the etymology of the familial name Euctenizidae, as well as the generic name Eucteniza (pron. yook-ten-IZ-uh) is a consequence of the fact that these spiders were once grouped as a sub-genus under what became, at least for a time, the super-genus Cteniza. [...]
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