So the other day, a friend of mine posted this fantastic shot of a tarantula. Turns out, he shot it barely 20 miles from my house. Who knew? There are tarantulas RIGHT HERE IN MY OWN NEIGHBORHOOD!
Of course, I had to go and see for myself. So on Monday, I may have fibbed a bit as I told my choral conductor that I would be late because of a 'meeting in the South Bay'. Well, yes, I had a meeting. But they didn't need to know it was with arachnids.
I wandered around the supposed tarantula habitat, and didn't get a single nibble. But I did see some great deer, and some wild turkeys, and lots of lizards. I was nearly ready to give up when I thought that instead of looking for a male tarantula (they are the ones out on the walkabout, looking for females) I would instead pretend to BE a male tarantula, and see if I could find a female.
So I found a potential burrow, covered with fresh-looking spider silk, and when I squinted, it looked like there might be spider legs just lurking behind the silk. Then I took a (long!) piece of dead grass, and I agitated the silk burrow-covering, imitating an injured insect (just like the males do) Soon, I was rewarded with a little fuzzy leg venturing out into the fading sunset-warmed path.
A few more wiggles with the grass, and I'd riled her but good, and she charged out of the burrow, and did a quick about face, presenting her butt at me, and readying her hind legs to spray my predator face with little belly-hairs designed to trigger a sneeze-and-cry reflex. What she didn't know was that her charge out of her burrow had made me jump back and scream like a little girl. The only reason my camera didn't go sailing through the air was the fact that I had the strap wrapped around my wrist several times.
She quickly scurried back into her burrow. I never did find a male on his walkabout, so I'll have to go back there this week.

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