Spiders, man

“Everybody complains about the weather but nobody does anything about it.”

    - Calvin Coolidge (maybe)

Weather is unpredictable, despite what meteorologists and almanacs tell us. As I get older, the best predictors of impending weather changes are a dull sinus headache or aching joints. Even then, the accuracy is limited to merely knowing something “might” happen.

This summer has featured some weird weather. In Tennessee, winter and spring were mild and unusually-dry seasons. When the heat cranked up in June, drought monitoring became a regular component of the nightly news. But, when we opened the furnace of July, the humidity skyrocketed and daily thunderstorms quickly eroded area rainfall deficits. This tropical pattern persisted, making my garden rather happy and this gardener rather sweaty.

Our flowers have been particularly appreciative of the climate and have rewarded us with blasts of color. They’ve also been a steady attractor to a host of pollinators. Bees, moths and butterflies flit, fly and flutter among the blooms, but a dark terror dwells within the stems of our dahlias and zinnias.

The yellow garden spider is an impressive critter, known for its distinctive yellow and black markings and the zig-zag signature it places down the middle of its prodigious webs. Despite their fearsome appearance, these guys are harmless (to us) and welcomed seasonal guests. They’re also incredibly efficient hunters/trappers of garden insect pests. Yeah, they may pick off a monarch every once in a while, but nature is pretty unforgiving, even when beautiful.

The spiders won’t bother you, but be mindful of their webs. Accidentally walk through one and you’ll flail like you’ve got an octopus on your face.

This latest entry in my watercolor journal is dedicated to this charming, menacing monitor of our garden flowers. Hope you enjoy!

A brand new day