One interesting aspect of the gigantic spider web at Lake Tawakoni State Park is that, like all other communal webs, the builders are not the only inhabitants of the structure.  Generally speaking, social spiders often share their architectural wonders with many species of arachnids and insects alike.  North Texas’ own majestic marvel is no different.

By and large, long-jawed orb weavers (of the genus Tetragnatha) make up the vast majority of inhabitants.  Their numbers undoubtedly count in the millions.  They are the rightful owners and occupiers of this adaptive, growing spectacle.  In fact, walking through the web invites one to see these small spiders in mass quantities, whether that be in a blanket draped above your head or a writhing mass covering every inch of everything.  They are the apparent masters of their new realm, and they are solely responsible for the enormous and constantly-changing creation.

Nevertheless, I discovered they share their home with all manner of kith and kin, both arachnid and insect alike.  As I pointed out, such a thing is anticipated with communal webs such as this one, yet it never failed to amaze me each time I stumbled upon another squatter, another interloper who moved in and camped out in an abode built to house someone else.

The first visitor I discovered dwarfed her hosts by orders of magnitude.  A female Black & Yellow Argiope (a.k.a Yellow Garden Spider, Argiope aurantia), another orb weaver, sat quietly in the middle of her web as the long-jawed orb weavers scurried all around her in their frantic yet organized construction.  With their numbers so overwhelming, more than once I witnessed them chancing upon her web, yet she never moved nor made any indication that she would attack them—although I have no doubt she would.  She could kill as many as she wanted, though, and would have no impact whatsoever on their overall numbers.

As I attempted to get a close-up of some leaves caught in the middle of webbing, this small spider hurried into view just as I snapped the photo, then it promptly scampered up onto the web and out of sight.  While I’ve not identified the exact species in this case, I saw many of these scattered throughout the structure.  In fact, I saw a handful of these kinds of large-bodied spiders sharing the web as well, although too often they were impossible to photograph.

Surprisingly, true insects had moved in as well.  I discovered a type of mantis treating the web like they had always lived there.  Unfortunately, they were so small and so well camouflaged that it was impossible to get photos of them.  Their bodies were as thin as the web itself, so they could not be seen until they moved; otherwise, they blended in perfectly.

Differential Grasshoppers (Melanoplus differentialis) seemed unconcerned with the web, often found resting within its midst and under cover of its thickest blanket.  Although not the best photograph, you’ll even note in that image that the grasshopper shares the frame with a long-jawed orb weaver (bottom-left) and a kind of jumping spider (top-left).  Not one of them seemed at all concerned about the others.

That differential grasshopper enjoyed a perch completely shielded by webbing, but he was not alone.  If you look closely, there are two long-jawed orb weavers lurking nearby.  Both are hiding on the underside of leaves, one at top-left and another at bottom-left.

I nearly overlooked this slug caterpillar of the genus Euclea (possibly Euclea delphinii or Euclea nanina, as both are presently indistinguishable from each other).  Its position near the middle of a web-covered bush, in addition to its color, made it virtually impossible to see.  Had I not been knelt down looking at a bit of web building, I would never have noticed it.  It regrettably could not be photographed up close since a shroud of web encircled its position, so all I could do was put the camera as near the web as possible and try to focus through it.

Yet another differential grasshopper minding its own business in the middle of an arachnid nightmare.  This one clung easily to a leaf buried deep in the heart of spiderland.  Thankfully, I found a rather convenient hole in the web that allowed me to put the camera quite near this insect without disturbing a single strand of silk.

A mere five steps from the first one, I then discovered this second and much larger Black & Yellow Argiope.  Her web placed her at knee level.  Despite the growing throng of people that had appeared by then, and despite many of them getting quite near her to snap some photos, she never moved and never displayed even the smallest bit of interest in all the goings on.  She had three egg sacks hidden in the bush from which her web dangled.  They were impossible to photograph due to the impenetrable webbing that covered the whole of the plant.

[more images and observations to follow in Part 4, the last of this series]

[Update] The second photo shows a bronze jumping spider (Eris militaris).  The jumping spider in the top-left corner of the third photo is a bold jumping spider (Phidippus audax).