A large spider native to East Asia is spinning its thick, golden web on power lines, porches, and vegetable patches all over north Georgia this year. The Joro spider explosion has driven some unnerved homeowners indoors—and prompted a flood of social media posts.
In metro Atlanta, Georgia, Jennifer Turpin is a self-described arachnophobe, someone afraid of spiders. She stopped blowing leaves in her yard after walking into a web created by the Joro spider.
Farther east in Winterville, Georgia, Will Hudson’s front porch became unusable amid an abundance of Joro webs. Hudson estimates he’s killed more than 300 of the spiders on his property.
“The webs are a real mess,” says Hudson, an entomologist. “Nobody wants to come out of the door in the morning, walk down the steps, and get a face full of spider web.”
The Joro—Trichonephila clavata—is part of a group of spiders known as orb weavers for their organized, wheel-shaped webs. Common in Japan, China, Korea, and Taiwan, Joro females have colorful yellow, blue, and red markings on their bodies. They can measure three inches across when their legs are fully extended.
It’s not clear exactly how and when the first Joro spider arrived in the United States. In Georgia, a researcher identified one about 80 miles northeast of Atlanta in 2014. They have also been found in South Carolina, and Hudson believes they will spread across the South.
It’s also not clear why they are so abundant this year, though experts agree their numbers have exploded.
“We see natural ebbs and flows in the populations of many different species that may be linked to local conditions, particularly slight changes in rainfall,” says arachnologist Paula Cushing.
Experts say Joros aren’t a threat to humans or pets and won’t bite them unless they are feeling very threatened. Hudson says a researcher collecting them with her bare hands reported the occasional pinch but said the spiders never broke her skin.
Amateur gardeners and naturalists have raised concerns about the safety of native spiders, bees and other pollinators. But researchers don’t agree on what impact, if any, the spider will have on other species and the environment.
Debbie Gilbert isn’t waiting to find out. She has a zero-tolerance policy for the spiders around her home in Norcross, Georgia. She winds their webs with a stick, pulls them down, and stomps them.
“I don’t advocate killing anything. I live in peace with all the spiders around here and everything else,” she says. “But [Joros] just don’t belong here, that’s all.”
Nancy Hinkle, another entomologist, says Joros help suppress mosquitoes and biting flies and are one of the few spiders that will catch and eat stink bugs, which are serious pests to many crops.
“Spiders are our friends,” she says. “They are out there catching all the pests we don’t want around our home.”
Ann Rypstra studies spider behavior at Miami University. She believes more research is needed. “I’d always err on the side of caution when you have something that establishes itself where it’s not supposed to be,” she says.
Most Joros are expected to die by late November. They could return in equally large, or even larger, numbers next year—though scientists say that is hard to predict with any certainty.
The bottom line: In the case of the Joros, their Creator may be the only one who knows for sure.
Anthony Trendl, a homeowner in Suwanee, Georgia, is enjoying them for now. He started a website to share his enthusiasm about the spiders.
“It’s been a rough go of things,” he says. “I wanted to find some good in this world. To me, nature’s an easy place to find it.”
(The Joro, a large spider native to East Asia, is seen in Johns Creek, Georgia, on October 24, 2021. AP/Alex Sanz)
