Where I live in Chester, Connecticut, it's a forest. The forest that grew here after the logging came through in the 1800s. I've seen many species of spiders including this one — Gnaphosidae.
I just took a picture of this one. It's been on my fingernail for two minutes now. I nudged him a minute ago — he only moved a couple millimeters. He's just hanging out. He seems to like me. I turned the lights on and took a photograph.
We get ants too. The fucking carpenter ants — the kind that bite.
In the dark, I almost swatted this beautiful spider. This spider that seems to be connecting with me in some way, or cleaning mites off of me, or whatever spiders do when they interact with a human fingernail. It's really quite fascinating. Just to stop a moment. Pause the television. Don't look at the screen. Just look at this little spider crawling around.
Oh, and he's off. He just rappelled down my hand and onto my shirt.
In this house, we usually name animals. And stuffed animals. This one, I don't know — this one is Jonas, for some reason.
And he's continuing on his journey.
Please go kill some ants, Jonas.
A couple of minutes after the spider left, I felt something on my head. Instead of smashing it, I brushed it off. It landed on my neck, bit me, and escaped.
A fucking carpenter ant.