Motherly Insects
It was a cloudy summer day when a Mother Spider appeared at my back door. She was carrying an egg sac on her back as she strategically spun from her long strand of silk.
I felt compelled to ask her out loud what she was doing there, so I did. She told me a light had led her there to escape the death of her babies. I must have appeared confused and speechless, because she rolled her eyes at my silence.
I forget you humans are only aware of the feuds between you and your own, ever since you stopped paying attention to the feuds of the natural world.
I felt put in my place, and wanted to hear more, so I asked her to carry on.
There’s been a feud between the Spider Mothers and the Mother Wasps for as long as we can remember. It started the day the Mother Wasp finished building her nest. When she took a step back, she felt proud of her work, and truly believed it was perfect. Her cozy spell of admiration was suddenly interrupted, when she heard a thrilling commotion, and turned to see what it was. The ‘ooos’ and ‘ahhhs’ kept getting louder, so she followed the noise deep into the woods, until she saw a brood of insects standing with gawking eyes. They were stunned and amazed by the silky egg sac the Spider Mother had spun on her back.
The bees and bugs buzzed with praise, spreading the news all around,
“She found a way to hunt and survive, tandem with her babies. What an amazing species; and what a tough one she must be.”
“I heard, after her babies hatch they ride on her back, all huddled together, for at least another week. That way, she gets more time to watch them grow before they venture out. What an incredible motherly insect.”
Mother Wasp became angry, and had almost reached her limit. When she heard what Beetle had to say, I can assure you that she did.
“Did you know her silk is so adored, people say it’s luxury? Some drape themselves in it from morning to night, but I think that’s only royalty.”
Mother Wasp looked back at her nest, suddenly hating her work. Why should Spider Mothers be the only ones to get such special attention?
“We’ll see how great her silk sac is after I pierce the thing with venom. Once her silk is punctured and poisoned, it will prove that she is weak. Then they’ll see that a silk egg sac spun on her back, though incredible, is the dumbest nest to have.”
Later that evening, after the creatures fell asleep, Mother Wasp crept out of her nest, and set out on her quest. She found the Mother Spider, swooped down, and stabbed through the fragile silk of the egg sac on her back. She punctured and slurped the babies inside, noting their sweet, delicious flavor.
As the news began to spread, the Mother Wasp beamed with victory. Soon enough, more Mother Wasps were emboldened to get their taste. Their jealous greed became infectious, and motherhood turned to war; heavy and full with fear and survival, distracted from their finer creations.
The Mother Spider closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and I waited for her to continue.
I didn’t make myself like this. I never asked for silk; and my babies won’t have to either. The jealous wasps who’ve turned against nature have started a war they cannot win. Yet, the Spider Mothers hide-out in response to the threat, then reemerge that much smarter.
After years of hiding, we’ve learned to listen for clues, then follow them discreetly. We travel alone, relying on little, besides what can be done for ourselves. Mother Wasps were on the hunt, so I followed the clues, which led me here to feed and spin for my babies. Of course, you—a human—could destroy me too, quicker than the Mother Wasp. One clean swoop, and I’d be on the ground, waiting for the squish of your boot.
The thought had already occurred to me, and it poked at my unfamiliar position. Little old me, with such little power amongst my own, suddenly had a ton hanging over this Mother Spider, intent on protecting her young. And so I reassured her.
“From one mother to another, I promise I won’t crush you. You’re safe with me, as I’m quite familiar with protecting my young from wasps.”
