Garden Spiders: Pairing and Hunting 



daily bread, I also doggedly spread my net, 

 the net for catching ideas, a more elusive and 

 less substantial prize than the Moth. Let us 

 not lose heart. The best part of life is not 

 in the present, still less in the past; it lies in 

 the future, the domain of hope. Let us wait. 



All day long, the sky, of a uniform grey, 

 has appeared to be brewing a storm. In spite 

 of the threatened downpour, my neighbour, 

 who is a shrewd weather-prophet, has come 

 out of the cypress-tree and begun to renew her 

 web at the regular hour. Her forecast is 

 correct: it will be a fine night. See, the 

 steaming-pan of the clouds splits open; and, 

 through the apertures, the moon peeps, in- 

 quisitively. I too, lantern in hand, am peep- 

 ing. A gust of wind from the north clears 

 the realms on high; the sky becomes 

 magnificent; perfect calm reigns below. The 

 Moths begin their nightly rounds. Good! 

 One is caught, a mighty fine one. The Spider 

 will dine to-day. 



What happens next, in an uncertain light, 

 does not lend itself to accurate observation. 

 It is better to turn to those Garden Spiders 

 who never leave their web and who hunt 

 mainly in the daytime. The Banded and the 

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