Autumn is really upon us now. Shades of green subtlely changing to deep hues of brown, red, yellow, hanging desperately to tree limbs before being blown and blustered off into space. Swirling through the air, caught by increasingly chilly winds, before finally falling and resting on terra firma and becoming mulch. Food for tiny specimens of beetle, and bugs, and soil dwelling bacteria. The cycle of energy ever continuous.
It’s a time of exciting change, and whilst many plants are gathering up their last warm days, pushing stores of energy into their roots and bulbs to survive the upcoming freeze, many are in the midst of opening their beautiful displays. Late flowering Dhalia’s are coming into full bloom, roses that have been trimmed and deadheaded throughout the summer make no signs of diminishing and whilst somewhat leggy, even the osteospermums are continuing to shine their daisy flowers towards the weakening sun. Plans are afoot for garden renovation and now is the perfect time to start moving plants around. And amidst this bundle of continuous natural joy, sits a common, and often overlooked garden wonder. Sitting in a delicately and perfectly formed web hangs a little bronzed beauty. Her dabbled abdomen with spots of cream, her spindly legs held in tantalising wait for the foody vibration of a tasty morsel. She’s no shrinking voilet either, managing to grow to often a couple of cm, the end of summer season see’s the rise of a formidable species.
Araneus diadematus doesn’t hold any prisoners as this female wraps up a wasp for brunch
If like me, you walk into the same web, every morning, sticking in your hair, across your face, then your best bet is to have a friendly word and move your beloved arachnid. For with her work never done, every night see’s each female eat their own web, only to spin a new one the following day. And if, like me, you want a web free path to the house, endeavour to move the little bauble for her sake as much as your own.
This glorious little piece of nature is enchanting. She spends her days spinning webs, catching bothersome flies and wasps, growing fat and full for the winter so that next year she can protect her brood before she retires to the spidery heaven in the skies. Spare a care for this garden beauty and next time you walk into a web, rather than curse and moan, take a moment to apologise to its inhabitant and really take a look at a little garden gem.
Baby spiders drift away for serperate lives after hatching from the egg sack