Arachnophobic Ramblings

I would love to go into the forest. Really. The forest is a lovely and very interesting place as far as I can tell. I like the greenery, the shrubbery, the flowers if they exist, the chirping of the birds in the trees, the cawing of the monkeys if they are there, and even the rustling of the leaves as the wind wafts through the canopy.

But I cannot stand spiders.

Spiders are simply the WORST. The very thought of them is already starting to make me nauseus and give me hives.

Spiders are scary. Their eight legs make them unearthly, more so than even the termite, which has a large abdomen and six legs. And termites are fairly large and grotesque, but they are still less scary than spiders.

Forests have spiders. Actually, forests have lots of spiders. They have so many spiders that I fear even to describe them. But you, my dear reader, I think you don't really comprehend the sheer number of spiders that are available in the forest. There are so many kinds, and they all take on different niche roles that are available.

For example, there's this really large spider -- body as large as my palm no less! -- that likes weaving large webs between low-lying branches. Those webs are exceedingly large, sometimes having diameters as big as three feet across. Three feet of web! One can get horribly trapped in that thing if one were not careful!

Then there are the really tiny ones. They don't look like much, but those buggers give a nasty bite when you are not looking! They like sneaking up boots, crawling down the top of the highest hiking boot that you have, and give you a nasty bite through even the wooliest of socks. The part that is bitten gets all swollen within the hour, and if you don't remove your foor from your boot fast enough, your foot will swell so much that it is no longer possible to remove the boot. Worst of all, even if you do manage to remove the foot from the boot, there will be this small patch of black with two holes where the insidious arachnid had nipped you.

That blackness will spread, the pain will be excruciating, and before you know it, you will have to amputate the entire leg just to save yourself from the venom.

And grown men can die from it within a day. Fully grown men, dead from the nasty bite of a tiny arachnid.

Ugh. The mere thought put into that description has caused hives to erupt on my arms. I'll be back again after I've taken some antihistamines.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 2014-02-12 18:53:12)