Late October is tarantula season. Male spiders leave their burrows in search of a female. It’s a dangerous time for them. They wander uncamouflaged, black against the dull yellow of summer’s dried out vegetation.
If he finds a female and she doesn’t like him, she’ll probably kill him.
You’d expect this would make these autumn wanderers twitchy and skittish, but they are calm. Deliberate in their movements, and unaggressive.
When they feel threatened, they stick their butt in the air and freeze, as if to say, “Look, I’m a giant hairy spider. You don’t want any of this.”
One afternoon, my dog and I were sitting on a path up a hill. A tarantula was at the bottom, walking up, and we were blocking its path.
When it got about 6 feet away, it stopped and looked at us for a few moments, deciding what to do. Finally, it turned, walked in a wide half-circle around us and returned to the path.
What courtesy!
Now, whenever I cross paths with a tarantula, I stop and say, “No, please, after you.”
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