Snakes On My Trail and Spiders in My Kitchen
My Nature Journal Summary
Today’s nature journal entry is a little different from my usual. I’m combining two different days into a single post: September 08, 2022 and September 10, 2022.
In part, this is because I got busy with real life. I didn’t create this journal entry on the 8th as I normally would and want to get caught up. But I’m also combining my experiences across two different days because my Day One nature walk came to an abrupt and unceremonious halt.
My Nature Journal Photos
Copperhead Snake Agkistrodon contortrix
The Time: About half an hour past dawn.
The Setting: A mixed oak and hardwood forest trail down the north side of a hill towards a bottom creek.
The Cast: Me and my husband.
The Action: We set off through the woods on the trail we usually take on weekday mornings when we don’t have a lot of time. The trail wends its way down a steep hill towards a creek that flows through the bottom of the ravine.
It was dim and quiet under the trees. The sun hadn’t yet risen above the hilltop, and our trail curved to the north side of the hill.
As an inveterate nature journaler, I’m always on the lookout for wild creatures and interesting nature sights. This habit stood us in good stead this morning.
I glanced about ten feet down the trail. A fine-looking Copperhead snake stretched across our path. I stopped so short I rocked on my toes and my husband banged into me from behind. “Snake!” I shouted. Normally, I try to keep quiet while out in nature so as to not scare creatures away. But all bets are off when it comes to snakes.
Especially venomous ones.
The snake seemed unconcerned by our presence. We felt the exact opposite.
A member of the pit viper family Viperidae, Copperhead snakes inject hemotoxic venom through hollow fangs when they bite. While their venom is not as toxic as some other species in their family, a bite from one of these snakes still constitutes a medical emergency.
Only fools trifle with these snakes. My husband and I are not fools.
I love walking in nature, and I love spotting wild creatures, especially impressive ones like this Copperhead. I don’t love risk, and discretion is definitely the better part of valor when it comes to venomous snakes.
So, we retreated up the trail towards home and coffee, delighted with the sighting and the story. I hope someday to see this snake again. From a safe and respectful distance, of course.
Arrowhead Orbweaver Spider Verrucosa arenata
I received another surprise today while sitting in my kitchen. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye where no movement should have been—namely, the far corner by my back door. I peered closer and was surprised to see an Arrowhead Orbweaver spider hustling across the open floor.
Arrowhead Orbweavers are distinctive spiders. Also called Triangulate Orbweavers, their abdomens are covered with an arrow-shaped yellow, white, or pink triangle. As in most spiders, females are larger than males, but neither sex is very large. This female’s body was no bigger than my pinkie finger’s fingernail.
These spiders don’t usually enter homes. They prefer to build their webs in deep forests. I’ve no idea what happened to bring her into my kitchen but I’m glad I got to see her.
However, as much as I love Mother Nature’s creatures, I don’t enjoy watching them crawl across my floor. I snapped a few pictures, then grabbed a flattened cereal box from the recycling bin. Using the eraser end of a pencil, I gently encouraged her to crawl onto the cardboard. Then I carried her outside, and deposited her in the bushes.
For all I know, I might have delivered her straight to a waiting Praying Mantis. But I like to imagine that she considered the bushes a more suitable habitat than my kitchen.
I know I did.
Brochymenas Stink Bug Brockymenas spp.
I spotted this insect on the railing of my back deck but I kept my distance. I follow this approach with every creature I encounter in the wild, and encourage all nature journalers to do the same. Every single species employs some kind of defensive weaponry. Size doesn’t always equate to whether that weaponry can hurt humans.
Case in point, Brochymenas.
Despite only being slightly larger than a man’s thumbnail, Brochymenas should be left undisturbed for two reasons.
First, this insect is one of several species of stink bugs classified in Family Pentatomidae. Stink bugs are so named because they release large amounts of truly foul-smelling discharge when disturbed, which effectively deters most predators.
Second, this particular stink bug can bite. Or more accurately, stab.
Many stink bugs are serious agricultural pests but Brochymenas is different. This species attacks and eats caterpillars and other soft-bodied insects throughout its life. Each Brochymenas sports a long, sharp beak, which folds under its body at rest. When ready to attack, the stink bug flips its beak forward and stabs it into its prey’s body. Then Brochymenas sucks out the prey’s internal juices.
I’ve personally never tested whether a Brochymenas’ beak can pierce human skin (see previous directive to leave every wild creature well enough alone) but I’m willing to bet it can. My scientific curiosity doesn’t extend towards finding out for sure.
