Spiders as Roommates

Spiders are nice roommates. They don’t take up much space, they are quiet, and they keep to themselves. They don’t ask for much, except an occasional rescue from the bathroom sink or bathtub. They are those non-threatening spiders, all legs and tiny bodies. They appear so fragile that I feel a need to protect them.

I share my small apartment with quite a few spiders. They come and go, often popping up overnight. I now know where to expect them, but one did surprise me in the kitchen sink, weaving a small web in a clean measuring cup in the sink. I kindly scooped her out, and I put her on the counter. I’m not sure where she moved.

I live in a garden-style apartment, fancy verbiage for a basement apartment. It’s not fully a basement as I do have full windows that start at ground level. From my chest up, the windows stand. From the chest down, I know there is dirt. When I moved in, I just figured I had a lot of spider visitors because I was partially living underground. I have no idea if there is any grain of truth to this belief. I wasn’t bothered by them because I am not afraid of them. I’m not even fazed. If they are somewhere dangerous to their own health, such as the bathtub when I’m about to take a shower, I cup them in  my hand and put them somewhere safe.

As we enter January, I still find my spider visitors in my apartment. I figured they would slowly disappear as winter settled. The only thing I really notice is that they get smaller as the winter progresses. My measuring cup spider made her appearance just a week ago, and she was the size of a pencil eraser. Her fall predecessors topped the size of silver dollars. I assume this is due to less sustenance. I certainly don’t have a stash of flies or other insects for them.

We cohabit, living side-by-side, with respect and intent. I occasionally find bodies for those who have died or passed along to the next world, depending on how you phrase it. I know the natural cycle of life applies to everything, but I can’t help but feel a bit of sadness for them. I imagine that their offspring will show up soon.