A funnel-shaped web spun across the edge of a mushroom that was pushing up the carpet of pine needles at Camp Solitude housed what appeared to be a female funnel weaver, a timid, fast-running spider. She sat in the cave created by the umbrella of the mushroom, waiting until an ant tumbled onto the web. She darted out, appeared to stun it, darted back inside, did that twice more before grabbing the ant and dragging it back to her cave. Less than ten seconds had passed - long enough to make me glad I wasn't small.

A collection of Christine's field notes are at www.bylineparrish.wordpress.com.