Millions of baby spiders appeared to be raining from the sky in the Southern Tablelands earlier this month, with one astonished local fearing the region had been “invaded by spiders” and another reporting his home was “covered” in the creatures.
Goulburn resident Ian Watson said his house looked like it had been “abandoned and taken over by spiders”.
“The whole place was covered in these little black spiderlings and when I looked up at the sun it was like this tunnel of webs going up for a couple of hundred metres into the sky.”
It was beautiful, he said. “But at the same time I was annoyed because … you couldn’t go out without getting spider webs on you. And I’ve got a beard as well, so they kept getting in my beard.”
I have always love the name Ian, and I am sure he is every bit as lovely as he sounds, but “annoyed” is not exactly the adjective that comes to my mind to describe millions of spiders falling from the sky onto my head. He is just a bit too que sera sera when he reports,
“[H]e wasn’t the only one getting rained on by tiny black spiders. “Anyone else experiencing … millions of spiders falling from the sky right now?” he wrote on the town’s community Facebook page.”
Here is the problem. In two to four months, those “baby” spiders become “adult” spiders. At which time they cease to be “annoying” and commence to be terrifying killers.
And for that reason, Ian and I will never share a lovely glass of Sauvignon Blanc in Australia. And if he agrees to meet me in the US, it will have to be somewhere other than in Chicago.