Stop and Smell the Tarantulas

One afternoon Darla and I were hiking, and we came across a tarantula in the Upper Los Virgenes Preserve, located in the Simi Hills of Northern Los Angeles County. Darla is my high energy chi-terrier and the stately march of the tarantula across the trail was worth about one sniff before she was ready to move on. I immediately captured an image of the arachnid on my cell phone…nothing impresses elementary school kids like hairy spiders, and I’m not above using any ethical means possible to create meaningful relationships with young clients.

Tarantulas are especially elusive because they generally hide out in an underground burrow during the day and don’t come out until the evening when there are fewer predators and more insects. The specimen we encountered was most likely Aphonopelma chalcodes and was unexpectedly out for a stroll in the late afternoon. These tarantulas are found throughout the West and eat lizards, crickets, beetles, grasshoppers, crickets, cicadas and caterpillars.

If Darla and I had been striding along that day with the sole intention of accumulating miles, we might have missed this particular resident of the oak savannah through which we were walking. We might even have—God forbid—stepped on the poor tarantula. But since Darla and I were both “sniffing” around, eyes wide and ears pricked forward, we immediately noticed the large arachnid crossing the trail.

Every hike is an opportunity for me to encounter the unexpected or find a hidden treasure. Walking gives me the time to stop, bend down and examine a plant, or stop and observe an animal or bird. Darla and I regularly torment each other with unplanned stops when we are walking together. She must sniff something irresistible that is invisible to my senses, and I must force her to wait while I admire a rocky outcrop or follow the unhurried flight of a red tailed hawk hunting high above the trail.

When I am present with all of my senses—sound, sight, smell, touch and taste—then I am able to experience an almost mind blowing amount of detail. Like the small rabbits that populate the chaparral and freeze in place so as to appear invisible when threatened, I stop, stand still, and am suddenly transported as I blend into the landscape and take it all in. For a moment I’m relieved to not be me, but simply another part of the larger landscape.

Darla and I paused just long enough to admire the tarantula and to make sure it made it from one side of the trail to the other without harm. What a privilege to be able to cross paths with this seldom seen neighbor. What a gift to allow ourselves to take in the larger, natural world.