Shelob

Prior to moving into the house where I live now in East Atlanta, I rented an apartment for many years in a building in the Poncey-Highlands area.  It was there that I developed a philosophy of cohabitation with bugs, particularly arachnids.  I abhor cockroaches and kill them on site.  I generally try to get anything wasp or bee-like out of my home as soon as possible.  Ants, of course, are a nuisance and must be dealt with.  With all other bugs I have taken a live and let live approach.  If you don’t get in my way, I won’t kill you.

I tend to allow spiders who have spun webs in corners and crevices to remain.  There are only two varieties of spider native to Georgia I need to be concerned about.  The rest aren’t particularly venomous to humans.  Besides, if they can remain in that spot for some time, that means there’s something for them to eat, and they’re providing me with a natural, organic, and pesticide free method of pest control.

The apartment I lived in was advertised as a two-bedroom, but it was really a one-bedroom with an office.  The apartment building had a large, central hallway with units on either side, mine, being the last on the right, was given the extension of that central hallway as an extra room.  It had a nice extra closet, was great for storage, and was functional as an office, but I would have hated to think of that space as a bedroom.

At the end of that room, below the windows that overlooked Maiden lane, I had a desk with a computer on it.  I generally kept the blinds drawn since there was so little to see and being on the north side of the building, afforded no direct sunlight into my apartment.  I spent many hours over the years when I lived there, sitting at that computer.  It was my portal to the internet and all it held.

One day, I went to my computer and discovered a relatively large spider had built a web partially covering the window.  I figured, if she stayed there she was eating and doing me a service.  If she was hungry, she’d leave.  Regardless, she wasn’t in my way so there was no need to remove her.

I’m not entirely sure what variety she was.  It’s possible, due to size, markings, and commonality in Georgia that she was a variety of wolf spider or grass spider, yet her web and hunting style was unlike what is described for those species.  My new house seems to be filled with cellar spiders, and not the variety that was Shelob, which was very common in that apartment building.

She remained in that spot for eight or nine months.  From the occasional carcass I could see that she was doing her job.  Once, after returning from a night out with friends in East Atlanta, I got to watch her work.  There was a roach that had tried to squeeze its way around the window.  It was caught in an area between the window frame and Shelob’s web.  She was on the case.  I watched their game of cat and mouse, or spider and roach as it was, into the small hours.  The roach would attempt to move one way and she’d shift.  If it moved back, she’d return.  It was a stalemate.  Eventually I went to bed knowing the home defense was in capable fangs.

I did not see the roach’s carcass the next morning, so I assume that it had decided to escape the way it tried to enter.  There was no way it got past her.

Many nights I would sit and admire her and the immaculate web she kept.  She would stand dead center of her web, legs spread, projecting an aura of authority, as if this were her room and she allowed me access.  Truthfully, I have no idea if she gave me notice at all.

One fall morning I found her unmoving in her web, a dried husk.  Her time had come.  I was sad to see her go, though we had no real connection.  Our only relationship was the fantasy I had concocted in my mind of her as sentinel.  I’m not sure that spiders can relate to people.  I was slow to knock down her web.  She had lived the better portion of her life as my roommate.  Sometimes I miss her.

I called her Shelob after the great spider from the Lord of the Rings.  I suppose, if picking a popular spider name from fiction, I could have chosen Charlotte.  Unlike Charlotte, at Shelob’s death there was no egg sack.  There were no babies.  Despite how successful she was, her line ended with her.

I wanted someone else to know about her.