IT starts with a sharp intake of breath that is followed by a short pause and an ear-splitting scream. Footsteps thunder across the floor and a second scream joins the first. ‘Daddy!’ comes the shout. A house spider has emerged from behind the lounge curtain. Once the spider has been contained within a pint glass, the fear has gone and my children stare at it inquisitively. If the spider is bigger than the base of the pint glass, a discussion as to whether it is the largest we have ever caught usually ensues. There is no genuine phobia, not from the children at least, just a behaviour that has been learnt and gets attention.

There is one species of spider in our house that does not cause a stir. We have even started to name individuals. Cellar spiders just seem to appear out of nowhere, sit motionless in the top corner of a room, and disappear, sometimes months later, as silently as they arrived.

Cellar spiders have long spindly legs, a small body, and are pale in appearance with subtle dark bands. Some comment that the head pattern resembles a human skull, but it took me a little while to see how. Females can be seen holding their eggs in their chelicera, pincer-like projections in front of their mouth (pictured). Perfect spheres, the eggs, massed together in an equally eye pleasing form that reminds me of stacked oranges on a traditional market stall.

To catch food the cellar spider casts lines of delicate silk. Once ensnared, the prey is bitten and poisoned with a mild venom before being bound in a neat bundle. They are not fussy eaters, with a variety of insects and other spiders forming their diet. Somewhat surprisingly, they will even take on the much larger house spider and even devour their own.

Originating in sub-tropical regions, the expansion of the cellar spiders range was down to humans inadvertently transporting them with trade, in particular the wine trade. Two hundred years ago a heated building was a must for the cellar spiders survival in Britain. However, with climate change this is no longer the case.

So as the house quietens down for the evening and I pour myself a glass of red wine, I find myself reminded of the journey Gary’s (the spider in the corner) relatives made with human assistance. In capturing the house spider this morning, did I throw his next meal out of the door?

wharfedale-nats.org.uk