Happy International Jumping Spider Day

I can hardly believe we are one third of the way through October already, but at least we can celebrate International Jumping Spider Day on October 10. This is the ninth anniversary of the "holiday," which was founded by Shaham Tamir, a macrophotographer, in 2017. It is also known as National Jumping Spider Appreciation Day.

A male White-jawed Jumping Spider, Hentzia mitrata, from April of this year, Wyandotte County Lake Park, Kansas.

The annual #Arachtober event is also in progress on social media, and the photosharing site Flickr, where it originated. I am privileged to know both of the Arachtober founders, Joseph Connors and Ashley Bradford. As the name implies, Arachtober honors not only spiders, but mites, scorpions, harvestmen, and all other arachnids.

An immature female Golden Jumping Spider, Paraphidippus aurantius, has taken down a soldier beetle in our Leavenworth, Kansas back yard, in June.

Jumping spiders have become wildly popular in both the pet trade, and in pop culture in recent years. It is an encouraging example of how attitudes towards spiders can be changed through creative and, well, relentless, approaches. It helps that the members of the spider family Salticidae are often fuzzy, with one pair of very large, forward-facing eyes that give them a much more endearing appearance than most other spiders. There are now jumping spider plush toys.

Studio portrait of a male Bold Jumper, Phidippus audax, from our back yard in Leavenworth, Kansas, in May of this year.

Salticids are also the subject of research in many disciplines, especially animal behavior. Some species, such as those in the tropical genus Portia, exhibit the ability to plot their attacks on prey to avoid detection by their intended victim. Courtship behavior in jumping spiders is also complex. Males and females are frequently sexually dimorphic, to the degree that the sexes can be mistaken for different species.

This tiny, adult male Attinella concolor, was the first of its kind I had ever seen. June of this year, Leavenworth, Kansas.

Jumping spiders are the most diverse family of spiders, with a collectively global distribution, save for Antarctica, and are among the easiest spiders to find. They hunt on foot, without the aid of a web, but deposit a silken dragline for safely returning from a missed jump.

You can probably find one hunting on the exterior of your house right now. Approach slowly, as they have keen eyesight and are exceptional at detecting motion. I have had many a jumping spider escape beneath the siding of our home because I moved a little too fast. The underside of leaves, on tree trunks, and on the ground are other places to search for them. Sometimes they stray indoors, too.

There are some jaw-dropping ant mimics among the jumping spiders, like this male Synemosyna formica that I found on the outside of a neighbor's house here in Leavenworth, Kansas in early May.

Since Heidi and I were on a road trip to and from Tucson, Arizona at the start of the month, I have decided to participate in Arachtober using images from my iPhone 14, much as I did for National Moth Week this year. Spiders are a challenging subject for even those who are most accomplished at phone photography, so my results may be....mixed.

Phone pic of a female Green Lynx Spider, with American Snout butterfly prey, and her egg sac at right. Madera Canyon, Arizona, last week.

Please leave a comment telling us how you celebrate Jumping Spider Day, and/or Arachtober. Did you have a phobia that you were able to overcome? Do you make art involving arachnids? Maybe you have a pet spider? While I do not accept unsolicited images here, you are welcome to include a link to images you have elsewhere. Enjoy the rest of the month!

New Year’s Insects and Spiders

Happy New Year to my friends and followers! I do hope that you are finding reasons to celebrate, and are getting out into nature. Our local weather here in northeast Kansas, USA, has been unseasonably mild, to the point of nearly breaking high temperature records. Yesterday, January 7, it was sixty-eight degrees on the Fahrenheit scale. Our average historical high is in the high thirties or low forties. Consequently, I have found a few insects and arachnids active in our yard.

Spined Soldier Bug, Podisus maculiventris

A few months ago, one person admonished me for using the word “bug” too liberally, to include other insects, and even other arthropods. Technically, it is a proper complaint, but scientists are not my intended audience here, and the overall goal is to improve public appreciation of every related organism that suffers persecution and disdain. In honor of this person’s observation, I will start by giving examples of actual bugs, true bugs in the order Hemiptera, that I have seen here in January, 2026.

It is surprising how many true bugs overwinter in the adult stage, and will stir themselves “awake” on warm winter days. Among the most obvious are stink bugs. Many people across the United States are familiar with the non-native Brown Marmorated Stink Bug (BMSB), but I have not yet encountered one this month. Instead, I have been surprised by this season’s population of the Spined Soldier Bug, Podisus maculiventris, a type of predatory stink bug. You read that correctly, this stink bug, along with several other species, preys on other insects. Normally, I see precious few of them, but this past autumn they were everywhere, especially along forest edges.

Stink bug, Banasa calva

Another stink bug I saw recently is Banasa calva, or at least I think so. There are eleven species in the genus in North America, and several of them look identical to this one. Species identification relies on characters best observed under a microscope. This is one of the usual species that feeds on sap of trees and shrubs, but is rarely, if ever, a pest.

Leafhopper, Erythridula? sp.

Leafhopper, Stirellus bicolor

Three-Banded Leafhopper, Erythroneura tricincta

Usually, the bugs I find this late (or early) in the cold months are leafhoppers, family Cicadellidae. They are small enough to be overlooked easily, but I managed to spot at least three different species recently. They are often so wary as to be difficult to approach, flying before you can train a camera or phone on them. Looking on both the interior and exterior surface of our backyard fence, and on the exterior of our house, usually proves fruitful. These insects also feed on plant sap. A few species are major crop, orchard, and vineyard pests because they can transmit plant viruses.

Aphid

I am well aware that many species of aphids spend the winter on alternate host plants, different from the plants that they feed on in warmer months, but I was still shocked to find one that had alighted on our fence. A single species of aphid my differ drastically in physical appearance between its winter and spring/fall populations.

Multicolored Asian Lady Beetle

Most beetles stay well-concealed in leaf litter, under bark, and in other nooks and crannies, but lady beetles in particular will surface on warmer days to prowl sun-warmed surfaces.

Non-biting midge

Flies are insects that you wouldn’t expect to be the least bit active, but if you look closely enough, you are still likely to find some. Chief among them are tiny, non-biting midges that defy identification. Even expert midge specialists find them challenging.

Winter crane fly

There are some flies that you can find only during the colder months, and the winter crane flies of the family Trichoceridae are perhaps the largest of them. At least if you measure their lanky leg span of three-fourths of an inch or so. I see them almost daily on the side of our house, our garage, and clinging to the wooden fence. The larvae require moist or wet terrestrial habitats where they feed mostly on decaying vegetable matter, fungi, debris in rodent burrows, and similar niches.

Moth fly, Psychoda sp.

A different moth fly of another genus?

Moth flies are very small and cryptic, and also resemble moths more than flies. Their larvae feed on decaying organic matter.

Frit fly

Another kind of frit fly with different antennae

Another unexpected family of flies I have observed so far this year are frit flies, also known as grass flies and “eye gnats,” in the family Chloropidae. They are almost impossible to spot at only 2-3 millimeters. I imaged several blemishes on our fence before one of them metamorphosed into one of these flies. Ha! They have a variety of lifestyles, though most live as larvae mining the stems of grasses.

F-winged Barklouse

Barklice, in the order Psocodea, are usually most abundant and diverse in late fall, but the only one I have seen so far is the F-winged Barklouse, Graphopsocus cruciatus, one of the introduced species, from Europe. They graze on microflora like algae and fungi on plant leaves, but I usually see them roaming the exterior of our house.

Fall Cankerworm male

Fall Cankerworm female

Moths. Moths! There are several moths that occur as adults in late autumn through early winter. I usually see the Fall Cankerworm, Alsophila pometaria, a type of geometer or “inchworm” moth, in late fall, but it wasn’t until this mnth that I saw both sexes, on the same day. The female moth is wingless, while the male looks like an ordinary moth. The caterpillars are generalist feeders on the leaves of a variety of trees and shrubs. We have several of their known host plants in our yard, so the appearance of the moths is not surprising.

Green-striped Grasshopper nymph

Believe it or not, some grasshoppers overwinter as nymphs (juveniles, immatures), and will poke their heads out of the leaf litter on warm days. The Green-striped Grasshopper, Chortophaga viridifasciata, is one of these.

Smooth springtail, family Isotomidae

Plump springtail, order Poduromorpha

Today, springtails are technically considered “non-insect hexapods” given their primitive physical form, but at one time they were classified as insects. They are generally small enough (under five millimeters) that they escape your attention unless they move. As their name implies, many species jump away when approached. Others do not have the anatomical mechanism to do so, and those are the ones I seem to be encountering now. In some geographic locations you may encounter “snow fleas,” which are actually springtails that can pepper the melting snow at the base of trees and similar situations.

Juvenile long-jawed orbweaver

Juvenile Humpbacked Orbweaver

Spiders can be out and about, too, though they mostly represent juvenile specimens. I managed to spy a young long-jawed orbweaver, Tetragnatha sp., and a “baby” Humpbacked Orbweaver, Eustala anastera, outdoors. I did see a jumping spider on the ceiling of our living room, though, and if I searched thoroughly, I could probably find more arachnid friends.

While I am enjoying the warmth of this winter, so far, I am also concerned about the volatility of our weather from one year to the next. Last year at this time we were buried under snow. The extremes and unpredictability of when the different seasons begin and end does not bode well for the survival of many species. Insects are more adaptable than most, but even they can succumb if they burn their fat reserves ahead of true spring. Take care, friends, let me know what you are finding.

Spider Sunday: Red Velvet Jumper

Whenever I discover a species new to me, I am compelled to illuminate the known biology of the organism for anyone who will listen, or read. This happened recently, when I encountered a little jumping spider on a sidewalk during a late afternoon walk here in Leavenworth, Kansas, USA, on August 20.

I managed to capture the creature in a plastic vial, to take home for closer observation. At the time, I anticipated that it would be an immature male in the genus Phidippus, as they are common, especially along this pathway through lawn and wannabe prairie that parallels a major street on the north end of town.

I am prone to neglecting or procrastinating in taking photos of captive specimens, so it was August 25th before I finally sat down for a spider photo shoot in the white casserole dish we have dedicated as a “studio” for insects and arachnids. I was fortunate the spider was still alive, albeit perhaps a little more slender than when I first found it.

Throughout the process of capture and photography, the spider was surprisingly slow, which is not at all like most of the fast, bouncy jumpers that I am familiar with. Viewing my photos, it became apparent that whatever this spider was, it was a mature male (fully formed terminal segment on each pedipalp); and it lacked the iridescent chelicerae (jaws) of most Phidippus species.

Puzzled, I uploaded some of the photos to my Facebook page in hopes that some of my friends who are spider experts might be able to point me in the proper direction. It was after posting that I tried looking in some of my books to see if there was anything remotely similar to my specimen. The family Salticidae is highly diverse, and not every book about spiders will include every genus, let alone species. This time I got lucky.

I soon received replies to my social media post, the first of which was from Sarah Rose, author of Spiders of North America from Princeton University Press. That field guide does not include the species she suggested: Ghelna canadensis, but I reached the same conclusion in perusing Common Spiders of North America by Richard A. Bradley. Ian Wright also suggested the genus in his comment on the Facebook post, and Alicia Lips and Dani Marie agreed. Alicia included images of a female of the species that she found on her front porch in June of this year.

Ok, more about the actual spider. The community science platform iNaturalist gives a common name of Three-lined Ground Jumping Spider for Ghelna canadensis. Somewhere I recall reading the name “Red Velvet Jumper,” but that could apply to many other species, even though it is appropriate to the color and texture of this one. Most sources offer no common name. Mature males measure 4-5 millimeters in body length, females 4.6-6.4 mm. Females are darker, gray or brownish, with indistinct markings.

This is a ground-dwelling species, unusual compared to the arboreal species in its cohort, the subtribe Dendryphantina. It occurs over much of the eastern United States, except for the southernmost tier. Data points on iNaturalist have it as far west as Minnesota in the north, and near Dallas, Texas in the south. The "Checklist of Kansas Jumping Spiders" mentions records in Douglas and Jefferson counties, but not Leavenworth. Older references may use the former name, Metaphidippus canadensis. There are also three other species in the genus Ghelna, at least one of which, G. barrowsi, also occurs in my area.

After I finished the photo session, I provided the spider with some water from the tip of a soaked cotton swab. He was thirsty! Then I took him back to where I found him, releasing him well off the sidewalk this time.

Sources: Bradley, Richard A. 2013. Common Spiders of North America. Berkeley: University of California Press. 271 pp.
Guarisco, Hank, Bruce Ctuler, and Kenneth E. Kinman. 2001. “Checklist of Kansas Jumping Spiders,” The Kansas School Naturalist 47(1): 1-13.
World Spider Catalog
GBIF
Bugguide

Spooders and Noodles

Recently, I asked my friends on a social media platform to express their opinions on the trend of anthropomorphism as applied to traditionally uncharismatic fauna such as spiders (“spooders”) and snakes (“noodles”). The topic received over one hundred comments, with few people commenting more than once. The responses were all over the map, including some uncharted places in my own mind when I decided to ask the question. Here is my loose appraisal of the landscape.

"Spooder," more properly known as the jumping spider Phidippus putnami

Overall, one’s personal stance on anthropomorphism and use of “cutesy names” fell into three broad camps:

• Acceptable, if not totally embraceable.
• At least tolerable, with qualifications.
• Utterly contemptible.

Those who held a view that anthropomorphism is acceptable seemed to be people who connect to animals in an emotional way, pet owners, and empathetic individuals who may have only a casual interest in wildlife.

The view that anthropomorphism is at least tolerable, but with defined caveats, was most frequently evident in people whom I know to be science communicators. Sci-comm professionals (and amateurs for that matter) deal with both the scientific community and the general public, serving as a diplomatic bridge between the two.

The individuals who responded negatively to the idea of anthropomorphism were overwhelmingly professional scientists, though it is even more telling that few of my scientist friends bothered responding at all.

A colorful "noodle" (milksnake)

Many comments in the thread sparked by my post were highly specific, and we would do well to visit these viewpoints to illuminate the future direction of sci-comm, and improve relations between the scientific community and the general public.

• Several responses indicated that endearing or comical names for creatures that most of the population considers scary or repulsive were fine, provided that those epithets painted the animal in a positive light. For instance, “noodle” is fine for a snake, but “danger noodle” or “nope rope” was not ok. Those names suggest that the organism warrants disrespect, if not lethal dispatching.
• Some respondents on the phobia end of the spectrum have found that assigning a name to an individual spider or other creature inhabiting their home, yard, or garden, made the creature less frightening. It is harder to kill, or even hate, “Fred” or “Bertha” than a nameless arachnid.
• At least one respondent indicated that cutesy names were for plush toys, not the real, living creature. This is interesting, if only because “Lucas the Spider,” an animated plush character created by Joshua Slice, became incredibly popular for a time, between 2017 and 2021. There was a total of thirty-two episodes on YouTube, in fact. Lucas remains a great ambassador for jumping spiders, at least.
• Several people expressed reservations about the unintended consequences of anthropomorphism, such as turning some species into villains (“nope rope” again), or drawing too much focus to one species while neglecting others (the “Panda Effect?”).
• A number of people strayed slightly off topic and expressed dismay at the use of the term “bug” for all insects. This included may well-educated non-entomologists who appear to have adopted a stricter scientific view.
• Turning the “stranger” into the “familiar” seems to be at the heart of many anthropomorphic tendencies.
• Names that spread disinformation were resoundingly condemned. “Skeeter eater” for harmless crane flies that do not eat anything, let alone mosquitoes, was one example. Using “babies” to indicate small (or “smol”) adult insects is another deal-breaker for those who know otherwise.
• The most objectionable result of anthropomorphism occurs when emotional attachment or assignment results in irresponsible behavior. An example might be taking an animal out of the wild because it appears to be abandoned by its parent, herd, or flock. You truly can love an animal to death.
• Giving a pet name to an individual animal, or to a species or category risks devaluing other life forms. This even carries over into human social interaction in the workplace and other settings.
• On the other hand, assigning a pet name can translate to improved care of, and reverence for, that individual or species.
• Extra-cute names like “spooder” inappropriately infantilize organisms. It reinforces existing tendencies to find the most human-like faces in baby animals as the most deserving of positive sentiment, leaving all others out in the proverbial cold.
• The use of novel names may not be the same thing as anthropomorphism. It represents the evolution of language, especially in the digital age. Introverts, the neurodivergent, and others who lacked the anonymous outlet of the internet in previous generations, are now able to contribute a new perspective. That should not be threatening to those of us who grew up with “rules” of grammar and spelling. Accepting these changes is the healthier path for both human society and the other species we share the planet with.
• Ideally, acceptance and appreciation of other species should not hinge on the introduction of an endearing moniker, but if it helps change attitudes, then what is the harm? There has been, and continues to be, too much of a kill-it-now, ask-questions-later attitude among the general public.
• Taking a hard line against affectionate expressions risks alienating entire generations of currently young people who could otherwise be the most effective influencers for positive behaviors and views related to the rest of the animal kingdom. You appear elitist, sitting in your academic ivory tower, trying to preserve your privilege and power, demanding that everyone relate to other species on your (scientific) terms, literally and figuratively.
• ”Anthropomorphism is generally more helpful than Anthropocentrism. I think it’s better to project our understanding of our own existence onto creatures than to treat them like they’re inanimate objects. Our perspectives will always be biased and imperfect through our own eyes, even through a scientific lens.”
• Use of cute names and anthropomorphism should be done judiciously by science communicators and scientists. Much depends on the audience and the setting. Students in a classroom are expected to be taught, and to learn, proper terminology. With a casual audience, it might be more helpful to achieve connection through the language those people are using, instead of immediately imposing scientific convention. The intent should always be to advance appreciation and understanding.
• ”I didn’t chastise/degrade/make fun of my coworker who named her yard-Argiope “Big Booty Bertha.” I loved it! She went from a wreck-the-vehicle kinda person (over spiders) to nicknaming one in her yard. I’ll take it as a huge win….I fully believe your audience may need some anthropomorphism to begin the journey of gaining helpful knowledge.”
• ”From a conservation….perspective, it gets people ‘in the door,’ so to speak….In regards to jumping spiders, it’s amazing how many people have gone from ‘kill it with fire’ to ‘Aww, jumpy boi!’ just in the last few years. Even if this generation doesn’t become entomologists or arachnologists, their children will be more inclined to due to the change in perceptions.”
• ”I also make the animals relatable (ex: describing a wolf spider with young on her back as a hard-working momma who has several hundred mouths to feed). Treading lightly, you can connect with audiences on even the most hated creatures.”
• ”I am in support of using them playfully, but prefer that it’s kept to banter and meme pages and to raise awareness and create a good image.”
• ”Danger noodle” can be an opportunity for a teachable moment, especially if someone in the audience uses the term.
• ”As the reptile and invertebrate [pet] hobby becomes more mainstream, this [trend in novel names and anthropomorphism] will also become more mainstream.”
• ”We fear what we don’t understand. If giving an animal a name that appropriately promotes curiosity or endearment happens, great. Then we’re a step closer to being able to educate about the animal’s behavior, benefits, perspective. If that name promotes more fear, revulsion, or misunderstandings, then we’re doing it all wrong.”
• "I guess in the end, for me, it’s a matter of adapting my filter to my intended audience. As others have also mentioned here, I see the intent, and value, in using ‘cute’ names when attempting, for example, to help a friend reconcile their distaste for certain critters. I also, in these circumstances, offer educational and fun/trivial facts to blend the informal with the formal….And if calling a spider a ‘spood’ helps initially disarm them, which in turn results in their being a more receptive audience for additional information, that’s a win.”
• ”I refer to the colony of great golden digger wasps [in my yard] as the ‘Golden Girls.’…Anything to make them less scary to people.”
• ”In my educational communication I like to mix some of the newer cutesy vernacular with descriptive terms, common names, and scientific names – often all in the same piece. My goal….is to provide a point of connection for a diverse audience, sure, but also to enhance storytelling.”
• I think our fear of anthropomorphizing creatures stems from our anthropocentrism….We are such a strange species in our great interest in setting ourselves apart from (and above) other species, and I think we do our planet a disservice each time we do so.”
• ”Anthropomorphism has been a part of Indigenous cultures for centuries and builds respect and understanding for all living things, establishing animals as family members or revered elders.”

Hard-working wolf spider momma

The one thing that does strike me, that was not overtly acknowledged, is the impact of novel language and anthropomorphism on interactions between people. One respondent used the term “pedestrian audience.” I know what they meant, but my first thought was that this was condescending and not helpful. We are never going to get anywhere in advancing scientific literacy if we invalidate the standing of others, reduce them to an amorphous, dismissible group, or ignore their personal experiences.

Shoot, we have to be honest with ourselves, and where we are at, where we are coming from. It might not be pretty, and that is ok. My own affinity for “unlovable” animals definitely stemmed initially from feelings of disconnection from my peers as an elementary school student. Our first priority as scientific communicators, maybe communicators in general, should probably be to listen to people who are not like us, to assert that our conversations are in a safe space, and that their experiential reality is valid.

Your comments are welcome here. Whether I reply to them or not often depends on the temperament of my browser in allowing me to do so. That said, understand that I try to approve comments in a timely manner, rarely censor any but spam advertising and profanity, and recognize and appreciate your importance in advancing the dialogue.

Bug Fair 2023 Recap

I had not attended the annual Bug Fair at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County (California) since about 2011, so I was overdue in seeing old friends and making new ones. Heidi and I had a wonderful time, and stayed in the area for the week afterwards to enjoy some of the natural areas in the greater Los Angeles region, as well as spend time socializing. The fair itself is a major event, one that regularly sets museum attendance records for the year. During the global pandemic, there was no Bug Fair until 2022, and even then it was a scaled-down version. This year it was back to full strength.

My table at the Bug Fair

Bug Fair happens the weekend before the Memorial Day weekend every year, and takes over two halls, plus the rotunda, and various outdoor extensions of the museum. It includes vendors of entomological supplies, live specimens, and preserved specimens. Many organizations and government agencies have tables as well, and there are a fair number of artists. I was the only author with a dedicated table.

Monarch Art, if I recall correctly

BioQuip Bugs, which was purchased when BioQuip folded

Greg Lewallen's booth

Micro Wilderness live insects and arachnids

We were next to a vendor selling carnivorous plants

The museum rotunda featured some educational exhibits

UC Riverside booth in the rotunda

Beetlelady's table display

Outside, on the back patio, museum personnel dressed as bugs played music for lunching guests

Lisa Gonzalez, one of my friends from prior Bug Fairs, is now the Program Manager of Invertebrates. Among her multiple talents is macro photography. Her images of museum specimens, taken with a focus stacking camera apparaatus, were on exhibit during the fair. I love that the interpretive text was in both English and Spanish.

I grossly underestimated the enduring popularity of the printed word, and sold out of some of my books the first day. The following day, we were taking prepaid orders and promising free shipping. I will know better next time, but when that will be is anyone's guess. I am currently working on another book, for which I do not yet have a publisher. An agent is reviewing the proposal, and hopefully we can begin shopping it around to various houses in the near future.

What do you do after a long day at the Bug Fair? Enjoy dinner out with Beetlelady, of course.

It was rejuvenating to see old friends like the Beetlelady, Dr. Stephanie Dole, who has built a pop-up insect museum she deploys at various venues upstate. She is also a gifted artist, cosplay enthusiast, and mother to two wonderful children.

Business cards I collected during the fair

I would highly recommend Bug Fair as an event worth planning a vacation around. The greater Los Angeles region has a surprising number of parks with unique flora and fauna, a perfect complement to the exotic specimens to be found at the fair. There are plenty of cultural experiences, too. Shoot, I'd go back for the churro cart in Long Beach alone.