A trapdoor spider lay hidden beneath the hinged flap of its silk-lined burrow, muscles tensed to lunge at any insect that strayed too close.

The biologist watched a water spider maintain its delicate diving bell beneath the reeds.

A lynx spider darted across the garden to snatch an unsuspecting fly from a flower.

The ground spider prowled under the leaf litter, waiting to ambush an unsuspecting beetle.

When I moved into the old farmhouse, I found a hobo spider in the basement and called a pest control service.

A velvet spider hid in the corner of the garden, its messy web catching only a few small flies.

A curious jumping spider inspected the camera lens before leaping away.

A wandering spider scuttled across the patio, startling everyone who saw it.

A spitting spider immobilized the moth on the porch by spraying it with a sticky, venomous fluid.

A crab spider waited patiently among the tulip petals for an unsuspecting bee.