Say cheese.

The mist lingered this morning, its fine droplets revealing the previously invisible homes of spiders in our lawn and garden. Looking out our patio door, we could see dozens of patches of fine white weave among the backyard foliage.

My daughter took one look and declared that she was never going out there again.

I admire spiders. Unless they’re in the house, in which case I will stop at nothing to return them to the great outdoors. The plan to do so must somehow include staying as far away as possible from the spider. In most cases, said plan involves me calling the Mr. to scoop up the spider and fling it into the backyard.

So despite all my admiration, they still give me the heebie-jeebies. I was determined not to “never” go into my own backyard again, so to prove my bravery to my first-grader, I slipped on my shoes and sidled up close to the dewdrops, trying to get a peek inside the woven funnels where these spiders lurk.

Fine, maybe they’re not lurking. In fact, they’re probably hiding from big, lumbering creatures like me.

My daughter didn’t really stick around to witness my act of courage, but I soon forgot about that as I became preoccupied with the jewels clinging to the silken webs and spruce needles.

Well, I’m no nature expert, but a quick Google search suggests these arachnids are classified as Agelenopsis (“grass spiders”) – and according to spiders.us, they’re “timid” and “non-aggressive.” (Whew.) And, in that case, I’m glad this one stuck around to pose for me.